Pride
by ExecutiveShrimp
Summary: AU, 2x1: After ten years of being the ultimate playboy and making many mistakes, Duo Maxwell recognizes that he needs to make changes in his life. He wants to be a better person; the kind of person who deserves to be with someone like Heero Yuy.
1. Part One

**Author's note:**

 **I wrote this as a oneshot, but it got so long (nearly thirty thousand words) that my beta has trouble working through the entire story and it might work better split up into chapters anyway because of its size. So, this is a short first chapter, but it's all I have for you right now and I figured I've been absent for so long, I really needed to post something.**

 **Yes, I am also still working on "Dirty Job".**

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 **WARNINGS (for Part One)** **: Language, mention of sex, mention of bullying/harassment, mention of alcohol- and drug-use.**

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 **Beta: Shima Yi! :)**

* * *

 **Pride – Part One**

 _I'm Duo Maxwell and I'm gay as fuck. Like assless-chaps, sequined-_ _tops_ _, mesh-underwear, Gloria-Gaynor-"I-will-survive" kind of gay. But make no mistake, I'm a top._

 _I make no apologies for who I am, regardless of how uncomfortable I make other people feel, or how befuddled they are by my lifestyle. My coming-out story is succinct: "I'm here, I'm queer_ _;_ _pass the potatoes please,_ _D_ _ad". His reaction? Well, he passed me the potatoes._

 _In my life I've been many things, so I guess you could say I've been nothing at all, not really. I worked as a dog-walker, a nanny – until I got too old and it got too weird –, a personal shopper, a florist, a dance instructor, a diving instructor, a cruise ship waiter_ _,_ _and there was that awkward time I lied myself into a position as a masseuse at a health spa and didn't know what the fuck I was doing. I'm a personal trainer now. And I still don't know what the fuck I'm doing._

 _I'm excitable, boisterous and chatty and_ _,_ _depending on who you ask_ _,_ _I'm either personable or insufferable. I love puppies and kittens and other people's kids. And one time, at band camp-_

"You can't write that, Duo!"

Duo blinked at his friend and pulled his laptop away from him. "Why not? It's true."

"It too true," his friend supplied. "You should tone it down a little."

"Isn't the whole purpose of a dating profile to introduce yourself? _This_ is me."

The black-haired man scoffed. "The purpose of a dating profile is to present yourself as a datable individual, who isn't weird at all for falling back on online dating in the first place. So in your case: be a little less _you_."

"WuFei!" Duo whined and dropped his head down, cradling his face in his arms on the kitchen table.

"Start over," WuFei ordered; he leaned over and promptly deleted the short personal essay Duo had written about himself. "Write about where you grew up, about your hobbies and what you are looking for in a partner. Something normal. Pretend to be a respectable person."

Duo twisted his neck and peered up at the stern, Chinese man. "That sounds exhausting."

WuFei smacked the American upside the head. "Give that thing back to me." He grabbed the laptop and pulled it away before Duo could untangle himself and reach for it. He spoke as he started typing: _"Hi, I'm Duo Maxwell… I grew up in Chattanooga, Tennessee. I'm independent, I like travelling, working out, cooking and baking and trying new things. My best friend, WuFei Chang, is the most amazing man in the world,"_ he had stopped typing and shot a cheeky look down at his friend, _"but, unfortunately, he's straight, so now I'm looking for the second most amazing man in the world."_

"Your lips are moving but all I hear is 'Punch me in the face. Punch me in the face'," Duo grumbled.

WuFei laughed and his fingers started to type again. _"I'm looking for-"_

"A six-foot guy with a nine-inch cock-"

" _\- a_ nice _guy,"_ WuFei insisted.

"With a swimmer's body-" He interjected with a grin.

" _Who is_ passionate and enthusiastic _about his own hobbies and wants to introduce me to the things he loves doing."_

Duo imitated a gagging noise.

Ignoring him, the other man continued: _"So if you're also looking for someone to share a life with, and you'd like to spend a Friday night on the couch with me-"_

"-Exchanging blow jobs-"

"- _watching_ The Food Network!"

Duo scrunched up his face. "You're making me sound like a feeder."

" _I'd like to meet you,"_ WuFei typed on, _"and get to know you and do the things_ you _love."_

"A _lesbian_ feeder."

WuFei slammed a fist on the table. "Goddammit, Duo. Can't you be serious for once?"

Duo sat up and defended his childish, antagonistic behavior. "How am I supposed to take this sappy shit seriously?"

"You're the one who has been bugging me to help you set up an online dating profile for the past two weeks!"

He slouched and lowered his chin into his palm. "I guess I had different expectations of it. It's weird."

WuFei sighed. "I get that," he said sympathetically. "But you weren't shitting me when you said you were lonely, right?"

Duo cast his gaze down, embarrassed by the admissions he had made to his friend when he had been drunk and freshly dumped…if you count your "boyfriend" of three weeks telling you he wants the freedom to fuck other men, while in the bathroom stall of a nightclub _with another man_ , as being dumped. He may have been drunk, but his sentiments were not untrue. He was approaching the age of thirty-three and for the past ten years he had been living the life he thought to be the gay man's dream: trying all kinds of drugs, having sex with strangers, dodging responsibilities and living according to his own schedule and his own rules. But after ten years he realized it wasn't making him happy. He found himself being jealous of his straight friends, who had all settled down, married a nice wife, owned a nice house, bought a nice car and had nice kids – nice enough, anyway. His life was empty. He was a nobody.

Duo thought he could simply change and find the right person – the nice person he wanted to settle down with. He never had any trouble meeting plenty of people, but none of them shared his epiphany, none of them wanted to settle down. By his own engineering, he ended up surrounded by superficial people pursuing superficial, selfish goals: the next high, the next orgasm. He couldn't even find anyone to take him seriously; they laughed whenever he backed away when they were about to put their hands down his pants. Duo's reputation preceded him. That used to be a boost to his ego, but lately it made him feel like a cheap whore.

"You meant that, right?" WuFei repeated as he realized his friend had gotten lost in his own thoughts.

"Yeah, I meant it," Duo said morosely.

"Good, because I just uploaded your profile onto the website."

"What?!" Duo turned the laptop around and stared at the verification notification. "With that lame shit you wrote?"

"Duo, you have only gone on a handful of actual dates in the past decade; I'm _married_. Which one of us is the better judge to get you a boyfriend?"

"Probably not the _straight_ guy between the two of us," he deadpanned.

WuFei slammed the laptop shut. "Give it some time, okay?" He got up from his seat and patted his friend's shoulder in support. "I'm going to head home. Don't even bother trying to delete your profile; I changed the password." He flashed a grin. "This will be fun."

"You know what else is fun?" Duo bantered. "Killing my best friend."

"Doesn't sound like fun to me."

"Well, how would you know? You haven't tried it."

WuFei waved at him dismissively. "Just relax. What's the worst that could happen?"

* * *

Four days later Duo walked into the gym for work, as a completely unsuspecting victim of "the worst that could happen". In the past few days, he had gotten some email responses to his profile on the dating site, but none of the men who had reached out to him sparked his interest. Their profiles were as bland as his was; perhaps they too had a meddling friend, much like him, and they deserved the benefit of the doubt. But he never replied to "Sweater-Vest" Sam, "Look at Me, I Went to Yale" Jeremy, Phil the Accountant, "Posing by My Car" Akai, or any of the other guys. The problem was, they were all too normal and too respectable, exactly the kind of guy "Binge Watching Food Network" Duo would attract – imitation Duo.

Mulling over his misery, he strutted into the staff locker room and unlocked his personal locker to stuff his bag with a fresh change of clothes into it. He was already wearing his track shorts and a sports vest layered over a tank top.

Suddenly his locker was slammed shut and he stared at the pale hand pressed against the grey metal.

"Good morning, Mister Independent from Chattanooga, Tennessee," his colleague teased.

 _Oh God._ "What?" Playing dumb seemed to be the only valid strategy.

In a prissy voice the other pestered him: _"I'm Duo Maxwell. I like cooking and watching the Food Network and taking long walks on the beach."_

"Go take a long walk off a short cliff, Dorothy," he retorted and stormed off. They had a friendly enough relationship that he could handle her regularly mocking him, but this particular subject was sore.

"Oh, come on! It's funny!" She followed him out of the locker room and into the main area of the gym.

Duo navigated between the rows of cardio equipment to the weights section in the back and started getting ready for his first client of the day: preparing a selection of the weights they would be using, rolling out a mat, and placing bottles of water at the ready.

"I really like that picture you used," Dorothy continued to badger him. "Turtleneck. Very bold."

He tried his best to ignore her.

"Let me guess, you had some help from our friendly neighborhood China-man."

"I'm pretty sure that's offensive."

"Hm." She took the accusation into consideration. "Stoic-man? _Super_ Stoic-man?"

He grabbed two towels from a cabinet and put them by the bottles of water he had lined up. "How did you even find out?" Duo wondered.

"You know Gordon Mullins?"

He searched his memory briefly and then concluded: "Your Wednesday four-thirty?"

"Hmhm. So, he was here yesterday and I had him on the treadmill – sight for sore eyes that man is," she remarked sarcastically, "all red-faced and sweaty. Anyway, he asked about you, in a roundabout way. I didn't even know he was gay. But what he ended up asking was whether a guy like you would really consider dating an 'average' guy like him. After a little back-and-forth, he told me about your profile on this Regular-Joe dating site."

Duo released a deep sigh. He should have known there was a risk of his other friends and colleagues discovering his digital dating venture. For some irrational reason, it was embarrassing. He felt desperate and unwanted, like he couldn't even pretend otherwise because the truth was out.

"It's a joke though, right?"

"Why would you say that?"

"Oh, fuck you, Duo!" She let out a hearty laugh and punched his shoulder. "As if you would ever consider dating any of those losers on that website. I did my homework! ' '? More like: 'Left-over-Bin-R-us'," she ridiculed.

He cringed. "I don't think that's fair to say."

"Shut u~p," Dorothy drawled. "Don't pretend like you don't care about looks. You'd never fuck anyone below a nine. Except for that one guy who was maybe a five, but we all knew he was a pity fuck. It was _Pride_ , he had the guts to ask you to dance – good for him. But that's not you."

He scrunched up his face. _Not my proudest moment, but not for the reason she thinks_. "And maybe that's exactly what I don't like about myself; what I don't like about my life," Duo shot back. "Yeah, I've fucked a lot of hot guys, but I think it's fair to say – after _ten_ years – that that's not really the kind of guy I should be looking for or I would have had someone in my life right now, one that stuck around."

Duo quirked an eyebrow and put her hands on her hips. She challenged, with a mischievous look: "You'd date a guy like Gordon Mullins, just because he's the kind of guy that might stick around?"

"I don't know him," The tall man countered, "But what I'm saying is I wouldn't _not_ date him because he doesn't look a certain way. I know I used to be like that, but it's time for a change." He nodded at his own resolve.

"Hm. I'll tell Gordon next week."

"Fine. Please do." He refrained himself from making a face as he pictured Gordon, sluggishly moving forward on the treadmill, about sixty pounds overweight and the worst choice of neon workout gear.

"Please do what?" Relena asked as she approached her fellow trainers, looking fit as ever in her black yoga pants and pink sports bra.

"Nothing," Duo said through gritted teeth.

Relena frowned and Dorothy draped an arm around her tanned shoulders. "Don't worry, I'll get you up to speed during the Pilates class."

"Don't you have a client?"

"She cancelled this morning. Got wasted probably."

"On a Wednesday night?"

Dorothy cupped Relena's pretty face. "Oh, my sweet, innocent princess."

The two of them walked off together just as Duo's first client stepped through the front door of the gym. He waved the man over and quickly went over his new workout regimen with him and fitted him with a heart-rate monitor around his chest before getting started.

If he was more petty, he would tell Relena that Dorothy has had a secret crush on her ever since she joined their gym as the resident dietician and Pilates and Yoga instructor last year – to get revenge on Dorothy, his frequent tormentor. But he wasn't like that. He also wasn't going to rub it in Dorothy's face that nothing was ever going to happen between her and Relena because the instructor was straight and regularly fell in love with her male clients.

Later in the morning the gym became busier. Duo had two clients in the morning and one after lunch; after that he was on floor-duty for the rest of the day: stepping in when people weren't using the equipment properly, giving advice and tips, and trying to sell two-year membership plans to curious walk-ins. Thankfully, he didn't have to interact much with Dorothy, but he couldn't avoid her every day of the work week. Their work schedules oftentimes aligned and they both mostly used the main area of the gym to work out with their clients, as opposed to the separate rooms they had for Pilates, Yoga, Zumba and kickboxing.

The clientele was an interesting mix of people. Most of Duo's clients were gay men who preferred the serious, focused atmosphere in the gym over the gay gym and sauna a few blocks over, and women who felt comfortable around him. Dorothy regularly complained about getting stuck with the "dad-types", who probably liked her because she was attractive, with her strong features and long, platinum blond hair. She was quite a sight. Brandon took care of the bodybuilders and WuFei had his own little "dojo" in the back where he trained people in kickboxing and martial arts.

Duo had this job for about two years, longer than any of his other careers. He liked it well enough, but he still felt restless. He didn't identify himself as a personal trainer. It didn't seem to fit him; nothing ever seemed to fit him. He wasn't a dog walker either, or a cruise ship waiter, or a diving instructor, and he definitely wasn't a masseuse.

Could he _be_ someone's boyfriend? Someone's partner? Was a restless man like him even capable of settling down?

* * *

 _Hi. I like your profile. I like the_ _F_ _ood_ _N_ _etwork too._

Duo rubbed his tired eyes. The blue glow from the laptop screen was blinding in the darkness of his apartment. "WuFei seriously needs to take down this fucking profile," he murmured. For the past month, uninspired messages like that one had kept popping up in his mailbox. He had lost his patience. He had lost his patience three weeks ago.

Dorothy thought it was altogether far too amusing to let it go, so she kept pestering him and introduced him to Gordon Mullins. Duo felt bad – it was obvious Dorothy had been playing tricks on the guy, pretending that Duo was interested, when he wasn't. Regardless, he went on a date with the man, feeling far too guilty to reject him when he had the courage to ask him out, stammering and all.

During the date, Gordon talked a lot about his koi fish. It got increasingly weird as it became apparent Gordon had named each and every one of the Japanese fish in his backyard pond and attributed cute little personality traits to them. Duo couldn't stomach his grilled salmon that evening; he kept imagining it had a name and a funny personality too. Gordon assured him it was fine, going so far as saying: "I have a dog too, but I don't care that people in China eat dogs." Cringe-worthy.

They ended the date with an awkward hug and ended up exchanging information. Duo felt too horrible to decline to give his phone number. Gordon called five times in the following four days. Duo never called back. That next Wednesday, Gordon didn't show up for his training with Dorothy – he never showed up at the gym again. This gave Dorothy even more ammunition to annoy him with. She introduced him to more guys – not any of her regular clients though, she wasn't a fool – and publicly cornered him into going on dates with them and pointing possible suitors to his profile on the dating website.

Some of them were nice guys, Duo was sure of it. But the dates were needlessly uncomfortable, unnerving and stressful. He didn't _click_ with any of them, how could he? He was so preoccupied with trying to be polite and appropriate, and ignore the fact that he had fucked the guy seated two tables over in the bathroom stall of Rage, and the waiter at the Seafood restaurant he had fucked in the alley behind that very restaurant, and the cabbie… oh that cabbie…

 _If this is what dating is like_ , he thought to himself, _I don't want it._

Cruising the clubs and bars for a hot fuck might be a shallow endeavor, but at least it was honest and uncomplicated. You could give a guy a single once-over and know if you liked him or not – liked him enough to fuck him, that is – and sex was fun and carefree in the sense that there was no deeper purpose to it. He didn't have to worry about hurting someone's feelings, or strain himself to focus on aimless conversation in search of something interesting to latch onto, or ponder what would be the right things to say or the right things to ask at the _right_ time. It was exhausting and he went home with a headache every time.

A notification sound from his laptop pulled him from his musings; his cellphone in his pocket buzzed twice in unison with the sound. Duo moved the tip of his finger along the touchpad and opened the new message.

 _Hello, Duo. Dorothy introduced us. You still on for tomorrow?_

Another sound, two more buzzes. A new message popped up.

 _This is Tom btw_.

Duo groaned and let his face fall into his palms.

* * *

Duo gathered all of his dirty laundry in a canvas sack, searching every room for that second red sock that he couldn't find anywhere, and wiping his brow as the heat was insufferable. He hated laundry day – truly despised it. It was always so warm and humid in the laundromat down the street. His apartment building had its own laundromat, but he was pretty certain the mold on the ceiling was toxic, and if it wasn't, then his neighbor from 2C definitely was. To avoid both, he walked the short distance to do his laundry. The weather had been so hot lately that he had postponed the chore for too long; he had to put a ridiculous outfit together with the only remaining clean articles of clothing. Fortunately, he wasn't very self-conscious about his appearance. Fuck what other people thought.

He walked down the street with the sack hoisted over his shoulder and hugged the walls to stay in the shadow.

The laundromat was pretty empty. Most people had figured it was too hot to do laundry and they were right, but Duo had work tomorrow and he couldn't wear his gear for the third time in a row.

He picked a washer and dryer at the very back, far away from the sunbaked windows that radiated heat. He stood right under the air-conditioning vent, even the meager flow of cool air was a relief. During heat waves like this, work was the best place to be. The gym had excellent air-conditioning that kept the temperature at a constant, comfortable 66 degrees Fahrenheit; nice and cool, excellent for working up a sweat, or just to escape the sweltering heat outside.

The past few nights had been rough. Sleeping with the window open did nothing to cool down the air. He felt like he had been melting into his sheets, and he couldn't get much sleep under the squeaky ceiling fan. He put said sheets in one washing machine and used two more for his clothes. It was quiet anyway, so he had no qualms about using three machines. There were only four other people there: a couple folding towels together, an older lady doing a crossword puzzle as she waited, and a young woman shamelessly sorting out her delicates.

Duo took a seat by his machines and used his cellphone to entertain himself.

About an hour later, when everyone else had left, he transferred the three loads of wet laundry to the dryers and was about to continue his lonesome vigil when the door opened and someone caught his eye.

Walking in – paying no attention to his surroundings – was a younger man, in his late twenties, wearing skintight leather pants that he might as well have painted on, and a black, all-exposing tank top, tucked into his pants to emphasize his slim waist. The hem of the top dipped low, front and back, revealing most of his chest and the expanse of skin between his shoulder blades and the curving spine. Amused, Duo observed the guy as he made a beeline for the first washer and stuffed in a load of clothes. His gait and the movement of his arms was slow, tired, but precise. Then he used the second machine for all-whites, but Duo noticed there was something bright blue caught in the bundle of white clothes.

"Wait!" He called from across the room.

The man froze – only in that moment seeming to become aware of the other's presence.

Duo nodded at the load he had just stuffed into the washing machine. "There's something blue in there." The look he received was quizzical and it made him smile.

The young man – whose face he could barely see as he was backlit by the bright windows – pulled out the compacted bundle of white clothes and dumped it on a sorting-and-folding table behind him. He rummaged through the heap and pulled out a pair of bright blue underwear that Duo had caught a glimpse of before.

"Thanks," he said in a monotonous tone, but he had a nice voice, deep yet soft. He put the clothes back into the machine, minus the underwear, and turned the dials before pressing start.

The man's interesting attire piqued Duo's curiosity. Leather pants on a hot Monday morning; either there was an interesting story there or they would at least bond over sharing weird laundry-day outfits. So, he pushed up from his seat in the back and maneuvered around the bank of washers and dryers to go introduce himself. The man was perplexed at being approached and stilled as he waited for what was going to happen. Standing in front of him, Duo took a second to study the man's exotic face and big, blue eyes that peered at him from underneath messy bangs. His tousled hair had that delicious I've-just-been-fucked-thoroughly appearance to it; it looked soft and inviting. He wanted to delve his fingers into it and cradle the back of his head as he tilted his face to savagely kiss him. Duo smiled impishly, hoping the other couldn't read his dirty thoughts on his face. Those blue eyes seemed to stare straight into him and it was a bit intimidating, but Duo held out his hand nevertheless. There was a delay before the other accepted it and shook it.

"Hi, I'm Duo."

"Heero." The rolling R sent shivers down Duo's spine. When Heero dropped his hand back to his side one strap of the tank top slipped off his golden shoulder and he reached up irritably to readjust it.

"Nice to meet you."

"Okay," the other responded stiffly.

Duo's eyebrow twitched at the odd response. He tried lightheartedly: "So, you either had a great night last night," he pointedly looked down at the clothes he was wearing, "or, like me, you had a horrible morning this morning realizing you had nothing left to wear." His eyes lingered on the sharply defined collar bones and the dip in the middle that he wanted to lick.

 _Jesus, I'd crawl through a mile of his shit to get a taste of his ass._ His thought shocked him and he assumed the perversion was fueled by the fact that he hadn't gone out in a while, put off by the whole "dating-thing".

"A little bit of both, I suppose," the other replied curtly.

"You do your laundry here more often?"

He shook his head. "My washer broke last week." It was apparent he only engaged in the conversation to be polite, not because he was interested.

"Oh, that sucks. I don't even have a washer, so I'm stuck here every other Monday." Duo laughed at himself awkwardly. He wondered why the guy was being so standoffish. He searched his memory but he was certain he hadn't said any of his inappropriate thoughts out loud, so why did he act so stung? He realized he probably wasn't presenting the best first impression of himself, practically drooling over him while dressed in swimming trunks and the "My best friend went to Paris and all I got was this lousy shirt" T-shirt that he had slept in that night.

"You really don't remember me?" The younger man suddenly asked, with his eyes narrowed.

The American scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. He felt a deep blush tinge his cheeks. "I'm sorry." What was he supposed to say? He ransacked his memories looking for clues that he had ever met this golden figure of perfection before, but he was certain he would remember him if he had. Maybe this guy was the one who had it wrong. "Are you sure we've met before?"

The full lips tightened into a taut line. "… I go to your gym."

"Oh. Well, it's not really _my_ gym… but that's not the point…" He let the sentence trail off. "Did we train together?"

"No, I train with WuFei. But I've seen you there a couple of times and you came in to talk to WuFei once during my session."

 _Geesh, so you've seen me from across the gym and I walked in on your training once_ _–_ _no wonder I don't remember you. That's no reason to get all butt hurt._ "Sorry," Duo said again. Realizing it wasn't going anywhere, he said: "I guess I'll see you around at the gym." He backed up and walked away, returning to his dark little corner.

He took a seat and held his phone up to his nose, but he couldn't lose himself again to the gay fanfiction he had been reading. He kept wondering about that guy – Heero – and his attitude. Honestly, he barged in on WuFei during his training sessions with clients so often that he still couldn't pinpoint the guy in his memory. He must be kind of full of himself to think that Duo should remember him.

He peered over the top edge of his cellphone and caught Heero staring at him. They both quickly looked away. Duo's face was hot and blood rushed to his ears and fingertips. It was unfair that he had to bear such embarrassment for not remembering this guy when he was probably just some kind of stalker psycho. The kind where cats go into his house, but cats never come out of his house. The kind whose idea of scrapbooking is cutting the eyes out of all photos. He let his imagination run wild, with nothing better to preoccupy himself with.

Waiting for the dryers to finish was the longest hour and a half of his life and he sprung up as soon as the machines beeped, one after another. He stuffed everything back into the big sack and was eager to get out of the laundromat. He hoped he would never run into Heero again.

He walked past him on his way to the door. The tension in his shoulders caused a dull ache. He had his hand on the doorknob when Heero's words stopped him dead in his tracks.

"We had sex, you should know."

He slowly turned around to face the other. Heero had gotten up from his seat and stood with his hands balled into fists and his shapely jaw clenched. Duo stared at him. He still didn't remember him, but the expression in those blue eyes assured him he was not lying. "I-… When-"

" _Pride_. Three years ago," Heero answered sharply.

 _Pride?_

Something clicked audibly in his head.

 _The pity-fuck?_ He could barely remember it – he had been very drunk. Mostly he just remembered his friends laughing at him when he emerged from the restroom stall. The group of friends had snuck into the restroom and had been eavesdropping on them before. Duo had been mortified and felt bad about the young guy, who heard their mockery and slammed the door to the stall shut, locking himself inside. The guys started banging on the door and calling out to the kid, offering to do "their civil duty" and fuck him as well. Duo was handed a Jagerbomb and quickly forgot about everything, except one important thing: that he had been such an asshole that night that he had scared himself.

But that young guy – he used to think of him as 'that kid from Pride' – looked nothing like Heero.

Recognizing the lost look on Duo's face, Heero supplied: "I've lost about forty pounds and I no longer wear glasses."

 _Jesus Christ_. Suddenly he remembered him. The kid had been chubby, had a face of soft, rounded features, wore thick-rimmed glasses and had an awful, short haircut. But perhaps the biggest difference between the kid and the man standing in front of him were the way they carried themselves. The skittish kid had his shoulders slumped and his head bowed and fidgeted with the hem of his clichéd rainbow tie-dye shirt. Heero, standing before him, was a completely different person, with his straight shoulders, proudly craned neck and self-aware stance, looking comfortable in his own skin and unafraid of anything. But the eyes… he remembered the unique blue of those eyes and the thick, black lashes that framed them.

 _Pride_ , three years ago…

Duo had been standing at the bar with a group of three friends. Not the type of friends like WuFei – he didn't even know WuFei back then – but the type that were fun to go dancing with and get drunk with; the type of friends that knew all the best clubs and could score the best drugs. Dorothy was there too, with a couple of her girlfriends. The guys were playing their usual, obnoxious game of waiting to see which one of them would get bought the most drinks by other men. Duo had been winning and that meant he was pretty wasted by the time someone softly tapped his shoulder to get his attention.

He had turned around and looked down at the short kid with a chuckle. He didn't want to be mean, it was clear the kid was nervous and the kid's friends, that had clearly spurred him on to approach Duo, were looking on with baited breath. But that tie-dye shirt was just funny for some reason – the reason may have been the joint Duo had smoked earlier.

The kid said something and held his hand out for a formal introduction, but the music was too loud for Duo to hear anything, and he definitely wasn't used to people reaching out their hands to him in a bar to shake hands, but rather just to grab at him. There was something disarming and endearing about the young guy, so Duo downed his drink and leaned in close so he could be heard and offered to dance. The kid smiled in response; an odd little smile where his pink tongue was visible as he pressed it up against his exposed teeth. It made Duo smile back at him.

Duo liked to think he was a pretty good dancer – he had been a dance instructor for a while, mostly teaching old people not to step on each other's feet during the cha-cha-cha – but dancing at bars and clubs wasn't really _dancing_ , it was more rhythmic grinding. Before long they were both hard and started kissing and after about two songs Duo dragged him to the dirty restrooms and pushed him into a stall. They were both still wearing most of their clothes when Duo fucked the kid from behind. Duo was drunk and the kid's ass was tight, so it was over soon. He left and never looked back. He let his asshole friends harass him and even laughed at a couple of their jokes, without knowing why because he remembered thinking that none of it was funny.

"Shit," Duo breathed. The bag of laundry seemed to be getting heavier and the strap dug into his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Heero."

The other didn't respond. He looked away and the knuckles of his fists became white.

"I was pretty drunk and high and I-" He stopped as he realized what a pathetic excuse he was making. "I was an asshole." He waited and tried to read Heero's face, but the man wouldn't look at him again. "I don't know what to say. I don't think there's anything I _can_ say." Nervously he remarked: "You look great!"

Heero fixed an ice cold glare on him.

"Sorry, that was totally inappropriate." It was Duo's turn to look away.

Nothing was said and finally Duo decided that it was best for him to leave. He moved slowly, to give Heero the chance to say something before he left, should he feel the need to. But the other remained silent and Duo ran home, ashamed of himself.

* * *

 _ **Edit: Guys, this is NOT THE END of the story! More to come soon!**_

 **Please let me know what you think, but remember that it was intended as a oneshot so don't jump to any conclusions about the characters :)**

 **(Greetings from Europe, nervously awaiting election-results from the USA.)**

 _ **Edit: Might be the end of the world though... :S**_


	2. Part Two

**Author's Note:**

 **I don't want to get into a political debate, but I just want to say that recent developments dishearten me, because it says a lot about our society. We're not in the place I thought we would be; in the place we need to be. I thought we were moving forwards, but now it seems like our progress has barreled, full force, into a net of resistance and it is no longer giving way, there's no more give and now all our forward momentum is being used against us as the net is pushing us back.**

 **It breaks my heart to think how many people must have felt late last Tuesday (especially the LGBTQ+ community, because I've always felt so connected with them), to have it see being put into numbers how many of your fellow Americans don't care about you and won't support your rights. I can understand their fear and despair. Everyone who voted for Trump because of homophobia, transphobia, racism, xenophobia and superficial selfishness, has had their ignorance validated through his win and who knows how they are going to act out; how much more public and persistent they are going to be about their hatred. It's not right and not fair that, in 2016, people still have to be afraid of others judging them based on skin color, nationality, sexuality and gender identity.**

 **We must stay strong and not lose hope. We musn't let bigots shape our future, whether they are in power or not. Not even this strongly woven net of opposition can stop progress. I still have faith that one day all the wrongs shall be made right and everyone will be free to love who they want, without question, even themselves.**

* * *

 **WARNINGS: Language, mentions of sex, past bullying/harassment**

* * *

 **Beta: Shima Yi**

* * *

 **Pride – Part Two**

"Tell me about Heero," Duo probed as he sat down at his kitchen table with his friend, WuFei; they were both about to dig into their carton of Chinese take-out.

WuFei frowned and took his time chewing on a big bite of mushu pork before shooting back with a frown: "Why?"

Duo shrugged, not comfortable to tell him the whole story.

WuFei worked on another mouthful and then said: "He's my 8 pm on Mondays, Thursdays and Saturdays."

Duo nodded. Duo mostly worked the day shift at the gym, from seven to five. Only once in a while did the manager schedule him in for Saturday evenings and he always hated that. That explained why Heero saw him a couple of times, but Duo never really noticed him. "How long have you been training him?"

His friend still eyed Duo suspiciously at all the questions. "A while. We have our first anniversary coming up. He's good. He's driven. I'm excited."

Duo smiled. WuFei always celebrated anniversaries with his clients by setting up a real sparring match with them and not going easy on them – only after about five years did they actually stand a chance at beating him, but it was a rite of passage for them.

"You gonna make me ask again?" The Chinese man asked with a mouthful.

"Hm?"

"Why do you want to know about him?"

Duo prodded his food with his chopsticks. "I ran into him, last Monday."

"Really? I thought he was sick. He cancelled our Monday session this week."

Duo blinked at the revelation. "What about yesterday? Did he cancel yesterday as well?"

WuFei stared at him, confused by his concern. "No. He was there." After a thoughtful pause he demanded: "What the fuck is going on? … Did you fuck him?"

Duo let out a bitter chuckle.

"I'm not about to lose a regular to your bullshit like Dorothy," he warned.

"Relax. It was three years ago."

"Oh. Then why the sudden interest?" WuFei continued to eat.

"I didn't remember having sex with him. So I chatted him up Monday, at the laundromat… and made a pretty big dick of myself."

WuFei laughed. "Jesus, Duo, you are such a man-whore. You've fucked everyone in town, haven't you? And now you're circling back for doubles."

Duo knew WuFei was only joking and usually he could handle his jokes and go along with them, but the encounter with Heero had left him shaken. He had been humiliated and the worst part was that he deserved every bit of it and more. "He was the kid from Pride," he admitted with a sigh. "You remember me telling you about him."

"Not really. I remember _Dorothy_ telling me about him." WuFei made a face. After a pause he added his two cents: "That was fucked up, Duo."

Duo nodded. "Heero never mentioned me to you? He said I popped in once during your training session."

"No, he never said anything. He doesn't say much at all, in fact."

"Was he a little overweight when he started working out with you?"

WuFei shook his head. "He was average. He wanted to lose some more fat and build muscle tone. He'd been working with Relena before coming to our gym."

"Relena?"

"Yeah, she was his dietician before she joined our team. When she started working for us she actually recommended that Heero sign up for kickboxing and martial arts with me, to boost his confidence and stuff. And he did. She likes him."

Duo snorted. "Of course she does."

"I don't think she knows he's gay."

"Of course she doesn't…"

"I'm guessing Heero is still pretty raw about what happened at Pride."

The American nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

"What about you?"

"What about me?" He quipped and forced on a smile.

"You haven't been yourself this week. It's clearly bothering you."

"My, my, mister Chang, you _do_ pay attention to this poor, little, small town girl," he purred teasingly as an attempt to deflect.

"Stop that," WuFei demanded. "It _is_ bothering you. Why can't you just admit that and tell me about it?"

"Because I don't know what to say!" Duo erupted and he dropped his chopsticks into the carton. He didn't have much of an appetite anyway. "What am I supposed to say about it? I'm a douchebag! I'm a fucking douchebag. The shit I've been doing the past ten years… it's not cute, it's not funny! And I want to be different and I thought I am different now, but I still can't give a fuck about-… about _Gordon Mullins_ _and Sweater-vest-Sam_ and all the other perfectly nice guys that have been messaging me because of that fucking profile!" He gestured wildly with his hands as he rambled. "I met Heero three years ago, when I'm sure he was a nice and interesting guy, but if I hadn't been pissing-drunk, I wouldn't have looked at him twice and I didn't give a shit about him. I fucked him in a filthy restroom stall because I was so full of myself I actually thought I was doing him a huge favor-" He laughed darkly at himself. "I- I really thought: 'He gets to go back out there and tell his friends that he got fucked by the _great Duo Maxwell_ '… What the fuck?"

WuFei watched him with unreadable eyes, letting him rant on.

"My 'friends' mock him and I don't even stand up to them because I think the kid should just consider himself lucky."

"But you've changed since then," WuFei interjected.

Duo scoffed. "I _thought_ I had. But it's like I said: I still don't want to give guys like Gordon the time of day. No, instead, I spot a hot guy at a laundromat and I'm drawn to him like a flamer to a moth."

WuFei shook his head at Duo's twist on the common expression.

Duo exhaled and leaned back in his seat, caught off guard by the intensity of his own emotions.

"It was just one guy, Duo," his friend started. "You fucked around, _a lot_ , but they all got exactly what they wanted. Right?'

"As far as I know, yeah…"

"You were drunk. Your friends were dicks. You were a dick." Duo nodded along. "It happened only once. It didn't happen before, it hasn't happened since and it won't happen again."

"But I'm still that shallow dickwad of a guy! I walked right up to Heero this week; I never walk up to a guy like Gordon, or the guy that Heero used to be."

WuFei leaned in close and whispered: "Want me to tell you a secret?"

The American quirked an eyebrow.

"We all make judgments based on looks." He winked. "Attraction goes beyond the physical, sure, but at first glance, all we have to go by is someone's looks and whether that draws us in or not. Sally is wonderful," his eyes sparkled, as they always did whenever he talked about his wife and the mother of his two daughters. "She is intelligent, brave and stubborn as Hell, but that turns me on. I was initially drawn to her because I thought she was beautiful. I didn't know her, I didn't know her personality; I didn't know about all the things that made me fall in love with her, I just thought she was pretty, so I asked her out on a date and that's how it all started."

Duo blinked. He felt better, but was aware that maybe it was a coward's way out, to believe his reasoning.

"Want to know something else?"

"Sure."

"Three years ago, Heero walked up to you because he thought you were _hot_." WuFei smiled at him as he watched realization dawn on his friend. "He didn't know you. He saw you and he wanted to _get_ to know you, but it was all based on looks." He patted his shoulder sympathetically. "So don't beat yourself up over that, we all do it. Besides, you went on a date with that Gordon guy, and many other guys that – according to Dorothy – were 'like a six at best'. You tried and it didn't click, that's okay. The man talked about his fucking fish for two hours, Duo."

Duo released a sigh, feeling comforted by his friend's words.

"You're not a bad guy," The Chinese trainer assured him. "You made a mistake and you learned from it. Now it's time to forgive yourself, whether Heero can forgive you or not." He squeezed his shoulder before letting his hand drop back down into his own lap.

"Thanks, WuFei."

"Hm." He snorted and picked up his chopsticks to finish his lukewarm meal.

"What would I do without you?"

"Have a fit, probably," he joked. He reached out and playfully smacked his cheek. "My precious diva." He grabbed his face and squeezed the corners of his mouth together, puckering his lips.

Duo laughed and swatted his friend's hands away.

* * *

A week later on Saturday, Duo walked into the gym a quarter past ten in the evening. He had the day off and normally he would be getting ready to hit the clubs at that hour on a Saturday, but there was something that needed to be done. He wanted to talk to Heero again. He knew he couldn't change the past or provide excuses or explanations to act as a balm for Heero's hurt, but he needed the other man to know that he regretted how he behaved that night and that "that" wasn't him. He supposed his motivations for being there to confront Heero were mostly selfish; he needed Heero to believe he wasn't a bad guy, so he himself could believe it without doubt or the burden of guilt. It just didn't feel right, moving on and pretending nothing had happened, and looking the other way should he happen to run into the man again.

He cringed when he spotted Dorothy going through a cooldown with her client – a waif-y young woman, probably with modeling aspirations. Dorothy wasn't exactly sensitive.

The blond said something to her client, likely to excuse herself for a moment, and then approached her colleague. "What are you doing here? If you were on the roster for tonight, you're hella late."

"I'm not working."

"Ah, coming to pick up your _boyfriend_?" She teased.

Duo wasn't alarmed; Dorothy referred to WuFei as his "boyfriend", even though she – and everyone else – knew the Chinese man was straight and blissfully married.

"He's not done for another fifteen minutes," she informed him.

"I know. I don't mind waiting."

Thankfully Dorothy wasn't suspicious and she went back to her client.

Duo killed time in the locker room, fussing over his appearance in the reflection of the mirror on the inside of the door, as if it mattered what he looked like. It was just his nerves acting up. At ten thirty on the dot he appeared in the doorway of WuFei's unofficial "dojo" in the back of the building. Centered in the space was a square mat for sparring, and five punching bags hung down from sturdy railings on the ceiling, so they could be pushed out of the way, against the wall, or pulled out into the open space for use. Propped up against a wall was a bundle of wooden staffs, for fighting, and on a shelf he kept a couple of nunchucks and rubber knives and daggers. The wall opposite of the door was fully covered in mirrors.

Duo leaned against the doorframe and watched.

Currently, WuFei was standing off center on the mat, facing the door, but he didn't even acknowledge Duo as he was focused on his student, holding protective padding up at the height of his chest which Heero kicked with great force every time WuFei said "Go." Heero was too focused on his task to notice Duo in the reflection. The man was dressed in oversized sweatpants and a loose-fitting, long-sleeved white shirt – a shirt that would have probably ended up light blue if he had accidentally washed it with that pair of blue underwear. The big clothes made his frame look bigger than it was and he more resembled "the kid from Pride", as Duo remembered him. The young man's face was red from exertion and sweat dripped down his temples and stained his hair dark. He would have looked like a total mess, like Duo was used to seeing his clients in the gym as he worked them over, if not for that cold determination in his blue eyes

"Go! Go! Go!" The man instructed in quick succession and Heero raised his leg and kicked the padding with all his might, even forcing WuFei to inch back to maintain his balance as the other man kicked harder and faster every time. "Go! Go!" Attached to the forearm of his left arm was a big piece of black padding, whereas on his right hand he only had a round pad, like a big, padded baseball mitt. He had been keeping his right hand behind his left forearm, to help absorb the impact of the blows, but suddenly he raised his right hand high, higher than his head and yelled simultaneously: "Up here! Go! Go!"

With trained precision Heero switched feet and kicked his left leg up; the foot hitting the pad dead-center and even though he was practically standing in a split to reach WuFei's hand, the sound of the impact was still deafening and echoed through the room. WuFei kept yelling 'go' and switching the position of the padding, following a routine they must have practiced because without further instructions Heero knew exactly when to kick or when to use his balled fists. The rapid combinations were impressive.

WuFei was never one to let an appointment run long, he was a stickler for the rules, but it was apparent he enjoyed training with the other man and Duo had no hard time imagining why. Heero's drive was apparent and he excelled beyond what was expected of someone who had been training for less than a year; that excited WuFei.

The kicks started to lose their power – the sounds dulled. Heero was panting harshly, not willing to give up as long as his teacher expected him to continue, in spite of his exhaustion. He nearly lost his balance adjusting the height of his kick, but he caught himself and maneuvered into a different position to land uppercuts as WuFei lowered the pad.

"Okay, okay. That's good. Stop," WuFei instructed.

One more punch and then Heero let his hands hang limply at his sides. His mouth was open as he sucked in deep breaths; he staggered back a little.

"That was really good Heero, really powerful kicks," the trainer complimented. "You nearly forced me off the mat there. Notice how much better you can land the kicks using the right part of your foot?" Heero nodded; WuFei chuckled. "Keep doing that. You would have broken your own toes if you had kicked that hard using the front of your feet." He gave Heero another second, then they ended the session with a formal bow.

Finally, WuFei noticed his friend in the doorway and Duo straightened up. His eyes met Heero's in the big mirror.

"Duo," the trainer acknowledged him, a little strained. "Can I help you?"

Heero had his head down and was taking off the handwraps, quickly rolling them off one hand and onto the fingers of the other.

"I'd like to talk to Heero for a moment, if he's cool with that."

WuFei nodded. He looked back at Heero who wasn't responding. "Okay. I'll give you guys some privacy." As he walked out the door, past Duo, he remarked: "Just be careful about what you say, because this guy can totally kick your ass."

Duo watched a small smirk appear on Heero's lips. WuFei patted his back in show of support and then left them alone.

Heero stripped the wrapping off his other hand and put the two bundles in his sports bag in the corner, then he grabbed a small towel to wipe the sweat off his face.

"Do you mind talking for a moment?" Duo asked, trying his best not to sound pushy.

"Why? You said before that you didn't know what to say; that there was nothing you could say."

"I know. You caught me off guard. I had to think for a moment, sort some stuff out."

For the first time Heero looked at him, an impatient look in his eyes.

"I was very drunk," he started.

Heero scoffed. "Yeah, you must have been, to humor a guy like me."

"Please…" Duo begged and then reiterated: "I was very drunk that night – and I'm not saying that as an excuse! What I mean to say is: I shouldn't have gotten that drunk, because I knew damn well how I get when I'm wasted. I guess I wanted you to know that what happened that night had an impact on me too. I don't do that shit any more. I don't do drugs anymore and I don't drink like that anymore. And I certainly don't consider those guys friends anymore."

When he had sobered up the next morning, he couldn't remember much, just vague glimpses and muffled laughter. He knew something abhorrent had happened – that he had done something awful – and the fact that he couldn't remember scared and angered him. He tried to ignore the brick in his stomach and continued living his life the way he had: getting high and wasted with that group of friends, but it didn't last long. It didn't feel right, he couldn't trust himself around them. He cut them out of his life a few months after, when Dorothy had clued him in about the trainer position opening up at her gym, and he met the straight-laced WuFei; he realized he should surround himself with better people, so he himself could be a better person.

He tried to tell Heero all of that, in the most coherent way possible, but sometimes he lost track of himself. He hoped the man was listening to him, even though he wasn't making much sense a lot of the time, jumping back and forth in time as he tried to explain his actions. He gestured nervously with his hand and found it difficult to meet Heero's scrutinizing gaze. His voice wavered with his anxiety.

"So, anyway…" he trailed off. "That's the story. I wanted you to know that. I know it's selfish to bother you with this stuff, to try to explain myself, but…- I don't know," he shook his head hopelessly and cast his gaze down to his feet. "I thought maybe it might help you too. If it doesn't, it's okay if you want to get mad at me, or whatever. Whatever helps." He dared to look up at him again to find Heero had been staring off to the side with a pensive look on his face, like he was working out a mathematical problem. "I didn't remember _you_ ," Duo added, "but I never forgot about that night. About the _Pride_ where I did nothing to be proud of." He let out a bitter chuckle. "I'm sorry," he said again. He must have interrupted himself with apologies dozens of times during his own monologue, but it didn't seem to do much for Heero.

He waited for a few heartbeats. The silence was tense. "Do you want me to leave you alone?"

"… Yes."

Duo nodded. "Okay… I'm sorry for bothering you." After a short delay he turned around and walked down the corridor. His heart dropped into his stomach when he noticed Dorothy leaning against the wall. He ignored her and walked by her, but she followed him into the main area of the gym, where only a couple of people were still working out on the treadmills and home trainers.

" _Heero_ is the fiver from Pride?" She prodded, her voice high with disbelief.

Knowing there was no point in denying it – she had eavesdropped on, presumably, their entire, one-sided conversation – he nodded in response.

"Holy shit! Well, he sure ain't a fiver no more. Boy is hot _AF_."

"I guess so." But it shouldn't matter that he looked differently now. It shouldn't mean that he would get treated differently. But Duo knew how the world worked, how people worked, and he knew that it was different.

"I can't wait to tell Relena," she smirked. "She's going to be so upset her Golden boy is gay, she is going to need a shoulder to cry on – and I have _excellent_ shoulders."

He sighed and turned to look at her. "Dorothy," he started carefully, not intending to hurt her feelings, since he knew her affection for Relena was genuine, in spite of her attitude, "Relena is-"

Dorothy steeled her gaze and her carefree grin faltered. "I know she's straight, okay?" She shot and her hurt was apparent. "I know it's never going to-…" She forced on a smile. "But let's not get _real_. Let's just keep it fun. Let me pretend."

Duo stared at her and for the first time he felt sad for her. "Okay."

She looked away and fiddled with the settings of her sports watch. After a while she mumbled: "I'm sorry about giving you shit all the time. You _have_ changed. I just like to deny it, cuz…" She straightened her shoulders and flashed him a grin, "Well, nobody likes a goodie-two-shoes!" Without further ado she walked away, headed for the staff locker rooms.

The American walked home, not sure if he felt any better about what had happened in the past. The memory of that night would continue to run through his mind, getting clearer and more vivid every time as each new remembered detail sparked the memory of another, until there were no secrets and blank spots left.

When he was scheduled to take over the floor shift on Saturday, he asked Dorothy to cover for him and she did. He wasn't sure if he was avoiding Heero for his own benefit or for Heero's, but it seemed better to not have another run-in, regardless.

* * *

It was another Monday and Duo sat in the corner at the Laundromat, entertaining himself with cat videos on Youtube, and losing himself further and further into the maze of suggested videos until he was watching sappy, grand proposals. The two washers he had claimed for himself beeped shortly after one another and he shuttled the wet laundry across the room to the dryers on the other side. He took a seat again, crossing his legs and adjusting the collar of his shirt, which was irritating him. The shoulders, sleeves and back of the black shirt were mesh, normally something he'd go clubbing in, but he had nothing else left to wear. He pressed the home-button on his phone and opened the notes app.

 _BUY MORE CLOTHES_ , he typed, purposefully using all caps. He was never one to turn down an excuse to go shopping, even though he knew he would, somehow, still end up having nothing to wear come next laundry day.

People walked in and out, but he didn't look up. Everyone minded their own business. Whenever a machine beeped, everyone looked up, to check if it was theirs. When it wasn't, they turned their attention back to their knitting, crossword puzzles, books and phones.

So Duo was completely caught off guard when he sensed someone coming to stand in front of him.

"Hello," said a pleasant, deep voice.

The American cast his gaze up and was startled by the sight of Heero looming over him; his mouth a tight, thin line and his blue eyes narrowed. He didn't appear to be at the laundromat to do his laundry, at least he didn't look like he had nothing left to wear; he looked great in black skinny jeans with rips and tears on the thighs and a simple, white T-shirt. Duo shot up from his seat, but regretted it instantly when he realized how closely together they were standing all of a sudden. Heero calmly took a step back.

"Heero, hi."

"Are you almost done here?"

Duo frowned and cast a sideway glance at the display on the two dryers. "In about an hour…"

Heero checked his watch. "Would you like to meet for coffee at three?"

"Uhm…"

"I've figured out what I want to say, if you don't mind listening."

"No!" He hurried to assure him. "No, I- You gave me a chance to speak, so you should definitely-… Coffee is fine. Coffee at three is fine." Thankfully that left him with enough time to go home and iron a pair of jeans and a presentable shirt. "There's – uh – a really nice coffee place down the street, on the corner of the park. The Coffee Lab?"

"Okay. I'll meet you there."

"Cool. Yeah." He watched Heero walk away and out the door. Duo's palms were sweaty and he wiped them on his tennis shorts. He wondered what Heero wanted to say. The idea of a public setting was in fact a relief, at least he didn't plan on kicking his ass, which Duo didn't doubt he could if he wanted to.

He wiggled his leg anxiously as he waited for the dryers to finish, and busied himself trying to figure out which jeans and shirt he would wear. Stressing over what to wear was all par for the course for a gay guy like him.

The dryers beeped; he hurried to gather up all his clothes, then he jogged home when he realized he also had enough time for a quick shower – unfortunately not enough time to wash his hair. He decided on a pair of casual, dark jeans and his current favorite shirt: a navy and white, horizontal striped shirt. The shoulders were a solid blue and the bottom few inches at the hem were white; in-between the colors transitioned into each other, alternating increasingly thinner blue stripes with increasingly thicker white stripes.

Duo stood in front of the mirror and played with his bangs as long as he could until it was time to leave. He snatched his wallet and keys off the kitchen table and headed out.

The walk to The Coffee Lab was short and he should have known that, considering he stopped by for coffee and a sweet treat often enough. He arrived fifteen minutes early in the quaint café. The coffee bar of repurposed dark wood was by the entry, and beyond that was an open space with Parisian style tables and chairs and wooden booths along the midnight blue walls. Random pictures and odd trinkets decorated every inch of the place and lazing on the floor by the front door was the dark brown – coffee-colored – Labrador retriever that the café was actually named after. The old animal's muzzle had greyed with age. At the sound of the bell as Duo pushed the door open, the dog reared its head up and lazily wagged its tail, hitting the floor with dull thuds.

"Hey there, old boy," Duo greeted him and bent down to scratch his ear for a moment.

The owner and barista greeted him and he walked past the bar to find a seat. He decided to occupy one of the booths in the back, far away enough from the bar and the three other patrons to have a private conversation, but still within line of sight of the door, so Duo could spot Heero as soon as he came in and Heero didn't have to look for him either.

"The usual, Duo?" Asked the owner who had come up to his booth.

"I'm waiting for someone."

"Okay, I'll be back to take your orders when your friend gets here."

 _Friend? Not quite_. "Thanks."

He waited and waited. Read through the sweets menu and then toyed with the laminated paper, twirling it on the surface of the table.

When it was five past three he figured Heero had changed his mind about wanting to talk to him, but just as that thought popped in his head the old-fashioned bell above the door rang and he turned his head to look.

Heero walked in, still wearing his black skinny jeans and white T-shirt. He had his gaze cast down at the dog on the floor and he smiled at the animal when it raised its head and wagged its tail like it always did when a customer came through the door. The man squatted down by the dog and petted the top of its head. He straightened up and looked around and spotted Duo right away. He crossed the distance between them and stood by the booth. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting." He didn't provide any explanation and Duo didn't really care. The man slipped into the seat across from him.

Before Duo could say anything the owner appeared at the table. "What can I get you?"

"Plain black coffee, please," said Heero.

"And I'll have a Latte Macchiato and a plate of the mini-cakes." Duo explained to the other sheepishly: "I'm hungry." He was very hungry, he had skipped lunch. He had planned to stop by Subway on his way back from the laundromat but the day turned out a little differently. "I hope you don't mind; we can share if you'd like."

"No, I don't really eat sweets anymore."

Duo felt a rush of anxiety as he fretted about saying and doing all the wrong things. He tried to lighten the atmosphere by joking: "Right, Relena's orders I'm guessing." Remembering she was his dietician.

"Hn."

Duo expected Heero to start talking, but the younger man remained quiet as they waited for their coffee. They didn't have to wait long. Heero was served his black coffee in a funny, novelty mug, and Duo's was in a classic tall glass, with chocolate sprinkles on top of the milk foam. The big plate of mini-cakes was appetizing: an assortment of bite-sized cakes of different flavors and with various frostings and toppings. The owner had generously put more cakes on the plate than usual, expecting them to be sharing the treat.

Nervously – and before his stomach could growl and rumble in an unflattering way – he popped a cake into his mouth and chewed quickly. "If you change your mind, feel free." He pushed the plate to the center of the table.

Heero looked tempted but he shook his head. "I like your shirt," he commented.

Duo wasn't prepared for the compliment, but he smiled. "Thanks, it's my favorite."

"It's better than mesh."

He laughed heartedly, grateful for the joke. "Yeah, it's better than mesh," he concurred.

Heero took a sip of his strong coffee and kept his hands cradled around the mug as he put it back down on the table. "I suppose I should just get to it. I won't keep you long."

"Don't worry about it."

Heero released a nervous chuckle and the American felt sympathetic. "That night was really horrible," he started and he wouldn't meet Duo's eyes; instead, he stared into his coffee. "It changed a lot about me."

Duo didn't interrupt him with more apologies, he was focused on listening.

"It was my first Pride. I had kept my sexuality a secret all that time because I was afraid, but the stress and the burden of that secret was really affecting me. I gained a lot of weight because food was this little bit of happiness and comfort that I could get whenever I needed it – and I needed it _a lot_." He chuckled bitterly. "I finally came out to everyone that year and… most people didn't take it very well. So I joined the organization committee for the march, just to be around people like me, and that's where I met my friends. They convinced me to come barhopping with them after the march. I didn't do that sort of stuff before, but I was curious." He looked up, perhaps only to check if Duo was listening. Their eyes met in silence for a moment, before he continued.

"When I saw you, with your friends, I was… jealous, more than anything. You were so comfortable in your own skin, so at ease with your sexuality. I wanted to be around that, as if it would rub off on me. And you were hot, obviously."

Duo smiled.

"I didn't mean for it to go as far as it did. I'm not saying I wanted you to stop, but what I mean is: it wasn't my intention to have sex with you, that wasn't the plan. But I did like it, when it happened. It made me feel very special. All night long guys had been giving me that look like I didn't belong, like I wasn't good enough to be there… But you made me feel good enough and that was pretty amazing. For as long as it lasted." He took a deep breath.

Duo stared. His heart was racing. He had forgotten all about his appetite and the aromatic coffee in front of him.

"When your friends revealed they had been there the entire time, listening, I was so embarrassed. I locked myself in that stall and I thought you would make them go away. But you let them yell things at me and bang on the door and climb up on the toilet in the stall next to it and look down at me. It was the most humiliating experience of my life. I stayed in that stall for two hours after you all had left.

"After a while of feeling very sorry for myself, I vowed to get some sort of 'revenge', which became this multiple step quest. It wasn't supposed to be. I thought it would be a one step process. I thought: if I just lose the weight, nothing like that will ever happen to me again. So I went to a dietician – Relena – and I started running and cycling and I lost the weight… only to realize I didn't feel any more confident.

"I was still scared about it happening again, with you as a representation of that fear. Nothing changed. So then the second step of the plan was added: get _fit_. Relena recommended that I start doing kickboxing, so I did. I would get fit and confident and then that would be it; that night would lose its power over me and I wouldn't have to worry about guys like you and your friends anymore. But, of course, that also didn't happen. I became muscular and able to fight, but I was still shy and introverted.

"When I found out by accident that you were a trainer at the same gym, I wanted to quit; but then I figured, not letting you change my life would be the final step. So I didn't let the thought of running into you change my routine."

Duo nodded as he listened intently.

"And – you guessed it – it didn't matter. I concluded that the only way to finally get over it, was to make _you_ feel bad about it and make you apologize in some way. I hadn't worked up the courage to approach you yet when we met in the laundromat. I wasn't going to say anything but then, as you started to leave, I was just so sick of myself obsessing over that one night three years ago that I just blurted it out, to get it over with." Heero was mindlessly twisting the coffee mug in his hand. "I could tell that you felt bad, that you felt guilty and that your apology was genuine."

"It was," Duo finally spoke up.

They were both silent for a moment and stared at each other.

"Did it help? Was it finally what you needed?" Duo wondered.

"No… And that really upset me. It caught me off guard because, I couldn't figure out any more steps to complete. Confronting you, and having you apologize and clearly feeling bad, should have been it. There was nothing left for me to do, so I felt like I had lost control."

 _And because he was upset he canceled his training with WuFei that day_ , Duo surmised.

"Even when you came to my training and explained everything, I still didn't feel any better."

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Heero assured him. "Because I finally realized why it didn't help."

Duo raised his eyebrows.

"Getting past it was never about you," he concluded. "Or your friends. Taking revenge by becoming better looking and making you feel bad was never going to work. But I was so focused on _you_ , I thought I _still_ needed you to save me, in a way; you were the key. It didn't dawn on me until a little while ago that I had saved myself. I didn't need you to make that night right anymore, I've evolved past it. That night was the catalyst that made me who I am today: someone better, someone stronger.

"That night… It wouldn't impact the person I am now; it probably wouldn't even happen to me nowadays. Not because I'm 'hot' now, but because I'm stronger. I'm still introverted and awkward, but I can stand up for myself and protect myself. I don't need someone else for that, like I needed you back then. I wouldn't lock myself in that stall anymore and wait for you to save me; I'd just tell you and your friends to fuck off. I saved myself, by my own strength, and I would again. Once I realized that, that night… lost its power over me." He frowned a little at his own explanation, not sure if he was able to express himself clearly, but after a moment of silence, he simply nodded in conclusion.

Duo smiled. "I'm relieved you have discovered this about yourself. And I'm happy that you wanted to share this with me."

"I could tell you felt sincerely guilty and when I realized you feeling bad wasn't helping me in any way, I figured you deserved to know that you didn't need to feel that way about it anymore."

"Thanks, although… I deserve every bit of guilt I've felt."

"Well, it's fine. I'm fine now. It might not have been what I wanted, but maybe it was something I needed." Heero leaned back and relief washed over him as he found closure.

"I guess I can kinda see that. There are things in our past that we hate, but we wouldn't change 'em because we know we'd be different otherwise." Duo nodded along with the reasoning, and thought back to moments in his own past that shaped him. Not all changed him for the better, but a lot of it did, or so he'd like to think so. "I'm wondering about those who don't like how they turned out. Not entirely at least."

"Is that the case for you?"

"A bit, yeah."

"What don't you like?"

Duo blinked at Heero, a little taken aback by the turn in the conversation. He released a sigh and sat back, folding his arms in front of his chest. "I'm kind of a man-whore."

Heero quirked an eyebrow at the crass admission. "Okay…"

"I've been trying to date and have a real relationship, but so far it's not working," he shared candidly, not exactly sure why. "If our past experiences decide who we turn out to be, then I'm just wondering what events made me end up… 'fuckable' but 'undateable'."

"It doesn't have to be how you 'end up'. You decide whether this is the end or not," Heero offered and he took a sip of his coffee.

A smile tugged at Duo's lip. "Yeah. I like the sound of that. Thanks."

Heero shrugged.

They both took a quiet moment to think to themselves. The tension between them had evaporated and Duo felt a calm and a relaxation sitting across from the other. After speaking their feelings and clearing the air, it seemed to Duo that Pride bonded them; in a way they had shared a moment in their lives that turned out to be very significant for both of them. Duo felt it created a closeness between them, even though the moment had been negative and had caused them both to rethink and reinvent themselves.

"Do you mind if I take one of those?"

Duo smiled as Heero pointed at the plate. "No, not at all. Take whatever you like."

Heero reached out and grabbed a square of chocolate cake with chocolate ganache and a raspberry on top. He picked off the small red fruit and ate that first, before taking a tiny, experimental bite of the cake that was small enough to fit into a man's mouth at once.

Duo watched, amused, while Heero reveled in the taste and a pink tongue came out to lick a crumb and a stain of ganache off his lower lip, before taking a second bite. "Good?"

"Hmhm." He covered his mouth with his hand as he smiled.

With his appetite returning to him, Duo grabbed one of the red velvet cakes with strawberry filling, and stuffed it in his mouth with a cheeky sparkle to his eyes. Heero finished his chocolate cake and Duo could tell he wanted to have another but was feeling too self-conscious, so Duo stuffed another cake into his mouth and then – with a mouthful - recommend that Heero should try the cinnamon coffee cake with caramel drizzle. The other man took his advice and tried it; taking a bigger first bite that time. "Hmm." He nodded appreciatively.

"Won't Relena get mad at you?" Duo teased.

As relieved as Duo was to be talking about something else, Heero replied: "Hn. Relena is already mad at me. Somehow, she found out I was gay and this really pissed her off for some reason…" He trailed off and his brows furrowed. "She said something along the lines of: 'Dorothy was right: men are exhausting'. I don't know what that was all about."

Duo smirked secretly.

The other man put the remainder of the small cake in his mouth and bit back a moan.

Duo had to fight back a moan himself. "How long has it been since you indulged on something like this?"

Heero swallowed his bite before replying: "My last bite of cake was at my friend's birthday, two years ago. He _insisted_."

"You're kidding!"

Heero shrugged and finished his cake. "I was more or less addicted to food. Quitting cold turkey seemed easier – less temptation. Actually, cold turkey is about the only thing I didn't quit eating."

Duo snickered at the joke. "You know, I don't know what Relena has told you, but given how often you work out – and the intensity of the work-outs that WuFei puts your through – you can afford a piece of cake once in a while."

"That's true. I guess I've just been a little afraid of unleashing the cookie-monster."

Duo laughed and was mesmerized when Heero smiled brightly at him in return. He had a cute smile, a flash of beautiful teeth and his pink tongue pressing up against them, visible between the pearly whites and the full bottom lip. It was exactly the way Duo remembered if from three years ago, only now he got to see it without the haze of alcohol. But then the man covered his mouth with his hand, and when he lowered his hand again the smile was gone.

Heero announced: "I'm going to go home." Duo couldn't help but let his disappointment show. "Thanks for coming out to talk to me." He shifted in his seat to the dig the wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans.

"No, please, it's my treat," Duo insisted.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, come on, don't be ridiculous."

"Okay." He looked a little impish. "Thanks." He remained seated for a second longer, staring at Duo with a confused frown and then he awkwardly scooted to the edge of the bench and got up.

"If- Uh-…" Duo laughed at himself for stumbling over his own words. "Would you like to go out sometime? For dinner? I know a place that has great cold turkey." It was a bold thing to ask, but he felt like he had to take a shot. Perhaps he was misreading things, perhaps he was misguided by his own exhilaration at having the issue from the past resolved, but he felt like there was a chemistry between them that titillated him.

"I'm sorry. I don't think that's a good idea. That's not what I came for."

Duo felt a bright, embarrassing blush on his cheek. "Okay. Yeah. Cool. No problem. I was just…" He waved his hand dismissively.

"I'll see you around, Duo." Heero said his goodbye and then promptly walked off.

"… Bye," Duo responded, altogether far too late to be heard; Heero was already out the door.

* * *

 _ **Edit: Guys! AGAIN: This. Is. Not. The. End. **_

_**You do realize that when a story is complete, it literally says so, right? In the light grey text under the story summary. At the very end it would say "Complete", if that was the case. Also, if you'd read the Author's Notes (!), you'd know that the story is thirty thousand words long and clearly these two chapters do not amount to thirty thousand words. We have two more chapters to go. Honestly, I'm not doing anything different from usual, I've never been a 'tbc'-girl, so I don't know why ya'll keep thinking the story is over. Is it because of the "this was written as a oneshot"-stuff? Because if you read that you should have read the rest of that AN. **_

**Love you all.**

 **Be yourself, without apologies, and be proud of who you are.**


	3. Part Three

**Author's Note:**

 **Welcome back! Yup, that's right, the story wasn't over yet. I don't know why so many readers thought (after both previous chapters) that the story was over. Was that first AN really that confusing? I thought it was pretty clear, but I guess I was wrong. Anyway, this is part 3 (of 4). I hope ya'll are enjoying the fast update rate (but don't get used to it :P).**

* * *

 **WARNING: Language, smut/lime/lemon, Donald Trump reference (this story was written before election day, so it's a little sour now, but I decided to keep it in)**

* * *

 **Beta: Shima Yi**

* * *

 **Pride – Part Three**

Life returned to normal; a new normal. Duo didn't give Brendan any more grief about penciling him in on a Saturday night once in a while. He wasn't interested in partying every weekend anymore and there was no more need to try to avoid Heero. He spotted him from across the room two or three times, as Heero came in or as he left. They didn't speak, they just nodded at each other and that was fine. It felt natural – nothing uncomfortable or awkward about it.

WuFei ended up with a black eye after 'celebrating' his one-year anniversary with Heero, but the Chinese man was ecstatic and proud of his injury. During their sparring session the fight had gotten a little too heated at one point and Heero had managed to clock his teacher straight in the nose when the trainer had his hands down to deflect one of the other man's powerful kicks. Of course Heero had lost the fight and had ended up with some bruises of his own, but his talent and drive thrilled WuFei.

Duo enjoyed listening to the trainer's stories about his promising student. But he tried very hard not to focus too much on Heero and focus on improving his own life instead.

WuFei finally allowed him to delete the dating profile, it was too impersonal and Duo was put off by that. Instead he tried speed-dating a couple of times – practicing what to say with his friend, but not letting himself become too rehearsed. He went on a few first dates. A few second dates. One third date. It didn't work out. So far, there had been no _click_. The silences were always awkward and awful and the struggle to find something to say was stressful. With most of them, Duo was saddened to discover they were mostly interested in him because of his looks and jumped at the opportunity to show him off as arm-candy. But he didn't let that deter him and he bravely kept going on dates.

However, one thing started to become apparent to him: He still couldn't stop thinking about Heero.

* * *

"Refill?" Asked the owner who stopped by Duo's booth.

The American looked up from his book and then at the empty glass to his left. "Uh, yeah, sure."

A moment later the man returned with his second latte macchiato. "What are you reading?" He put the hot drink down on the table and cocked his head to get a glimpse of the cover, facing down.

Duo lay the book down flat on the table and grinned up at him. "You don't want to know."

The owner laughed. "I'm gonna take your word for it." He walked back to the bar and continued his quiet chat with the only other patron at the coffee shop. It was late, but The Coffee Lab was open until midnight for the restless souls.

Duo was dropped off at his apartment by his date for the night at ten; considering their dinner reservation was for nine, one can imagine how poorly the evening had gone. Since he had skipped on dessert to put himself and his dinner-mate out of their misery as soon as possible, Duo decided to treat himself to The Coffee Labs platter of mini-cakes – and coffee, of course. The book in front of him was merely a prop to avoid looking like a serial killer plotting his next hunt: staring into thin air, looking thoughtful, quietly sipping coffee that had gone lukewarm.

The front door opened, the bell rang and the owner greeted the late night guest.

Duo glanced up when the person sat down a few booths over, facing him, but not aware of him. He blinked in surprise at the messy mop of chocolate brown hair and the pair of blue eyes that suddenly noticed him too.

Duo smiled at him and raised his hand in an absurdly uncharacteristic, timid wave. "Hey."

"Hi."

"Alone?"

Heero nodded.

"Want to join me?"

There was a delay as Heero contemplated the invitation, but after weighing the pros and cons, he got up from his seat and approached him. Duo quickly closed the embarrassing book he had in front of him and placed it cover-down on the empty space of the bench next to him. His palm left a wet print on the book as he was suddenly nervous, in an excited way. The other man sat down across the table.

"Busted," Heero said sheepishly. "Don't tell Relena."

Duo chuckled. "Your secret is safe with me."

"Hi there, would you like to order something?" The owner had appeared next to them.

"Plain black coffee and a slice of the ' _C-word_ ' cake, please."

"Hmhm."

Duo watched the owner leave to prepare Heero's order and then focused a mischievous gaze on his companion. "I guess you really liked it, huh?"

"Yes. I hate you, by the way," he deadpanned, causing Duo to laugh. "But, a professional trainer told me it's fine to a have a little bit of cake once in a while, as long as I keep up my workout regimen. So it should be okay."

"Well, case in point," Duo nodded at the nearly empty plate of mini-cakes and then raised his right arm to flex his impressive biceps unabashedly. Heero smiled and it was endearing, the way he subconsciously pressed his pink tongue against his front teeth. However, he seemed to realize what he was doing and adjusted his smile into one more proper – no visible tongue – but it looked too practiced and the smile quickly faltered.

"No, don't do that," Duo urged. "You have a lovely smile."

A blush appeared on his sharp cheekbones. "Thanks," he said dismissively.

"Black coffee and our last slice of the 'C-word' cake of the day," the owner announced as he returned and placed the mug and plate in front of his customer. "Enjoy."

"Thank you."

"Last one. Lucky," Duo remarked, looking at the slice of the cake; it was the same coffee, cinnamon and caramel mini-cake he had recommended to the man a while ago. The mini-cakes were basically just samples so people could try out the different kinds and get hooked, but Duo happened to like the variety; he was hooked on all of them. And he liked getting to eat with his hands.

Heero handled the silver fork delicately and took his first bite.

"How often do you come here?" The American started.

"Once a week."

Duo smirked. "In that case my professional opinion is that your waistline will definitely be fine."

"What about you?"

"My waistline is _fantastic_ ," he joked. "Nah, I'm kidding. I'm here almost every day, in the morning. Had a bad date though, so I thought I deserved a treat."

"How bad?"

"Nothing cake can't solve. Stressed spelled backwards reads desserts, you know?"

"Hn. _That_ kind of thinking is not good for the waistline, trust me."

Duo wasn't sure if he was allowed to laugh at that remark, given the man's history with binge eating, but then Heero shot him a look that assured him it was fine and was meant lightheartedly, so he released a breathy chuckle. "Are you seeing anyone?" He boldly inquired.

"I went on two dates a while ago, but-... He's nice, but he talks about his fish a lot."

Duo burst into laughter.

Heero stilled, with the fork halfway up to his mouth and stared in confusion. "What?"

"You're dating Gordon Mullins?"

He lowered the fork, looking no less perplexed. "How did you know?"

"I went on a date with him a little while back. Did he tell you about the koi that makes kissing-sounds when it eats?"

Heero smiled again – that beautiful, odd smile. "He did!"

"Winston!" They both exclaimed in unison.

Heero's left hand gestured animatedly. "I ordered monkfish curry on the second date – ordered it without thinking – and the waiter brings the dish. Instead of there being cut up pieces of fish in the curry, the entire, cooked fish – eyes and all – lay in the curry, looking at us! I spent most of evening thinking about names for the little guy, I couldn't help it!"

They shared a hearty laugh and Duo asked: "What name did you settle on?"

"… Dr. Chris P. Fisherman."

Duo rolled his head back in laughter. "You gave it some serious thought."

"Not just that, at first he was just _mister_ Chris P. Fisherman, but the date dragged on for so long, he went through medical school in the meantime. There was a graduation ceremony and everything."

Duo realized his roaring laughter may have been obnoxious, but it caused Heero to smile in that cute way again. Encouraged by Heero's reaction, the American told him about his similar date with Gordon, when he had made the mistake of ordering salmon and also began thinking about the name the fish might have had.

"What was it?"

"I didn't get any further than 'Hank'."

Heero scoffed and mocked him. "Boring."

"Hey! In my defense, I was trying to pay attention to what Gordon was saying… about his twenty-three other fish."

Heero laughed into his palm. "I shouldn't be talking about him like this. He's a really nice guy."

"Yeah, you're right, let's just stop it." One more chuckle – more like a snort – escaped him but he shook his head at himself. "Didn't he stop coming to the gym?"

"For a bit, but he started again a few weeks ago. He works out in the evenings now."

"Ah. He's avoiding me." Suddenly Duo felt guilty again. He should have just been honest with Gordon, rather than ignore his phone calls, even though the guy was a little crazy.

"For what it's worth, he doesn't seem to be pining for you."

Duo feigned shock. "But sir, how could he not?"

Heero grinned and took another bite of his cake. "He's actually seeing Alan now."

"Alan? I don't know an Alan."

The Japanese man made a ridiculous face. "Mr. God-is-always-the-right-answer?"

A lightbulb flickered on in Duo's head and he let out another guffaw as he remembered a regular at the gym wearing a shirt with that exact text on it. Alan was tall and uncoordinated, and looked like a liability suit waiting to happen with the way he maneuvered himself on the elliptical. Whenever Duo was on floor-duty, he tried to help the man, but there was no working with him and he just kept moving the machine with jerky motions. Imitating Alan's sluggish, monotonous voice, Duo said: "Hi~i," drawling the word the way the man always did, "I have three pet onions and my favorite color is Jesus."

Heero dropped the fork to his plate and covered his mouth and nose with both hands as he laughed. His blue eyes were watery. He was quick to compose himself, but he couldn't amend the adorable blush on his cheeks. He ran his index finger by the corner of his right eye just to make sure he hadn't actually shed a tear. "We are being so mean right now," he berated them both.

Duo felt self-conscious; maybe he wasn't allowed to make jokes like that, considering what had happened in the past, but Heero seemed genuinely amused by the harmless banter, so he assumed it was okay, as long as it was all light-hearted.

After taking a few more bites of his cake, Heero changed the subject. "What were you reading?"

Caught off guard, Duo burst: "Er… Nothing!" He stiffened up and placed his hand over the book lying face-down next to him on the bench.

Heero curiously leaned forward in his seat, trying to get a glimpse. "It's pink, that's interesting."

"A friend of mine gave it to me," _Damn Dorothy_ , "More as a joke than anything else."

"Well, if it's a joke, humor me?" The man practically pouted.

Duo released an exaggerated sigh and then placed the book on the table between them, right-side up. Heero nearly choked on a laugh as he tried to contain it. He molded his face into a serious expression and read aloud:

" _Why men love bitches._ " He looked up at him. "It seems you still have pretty 'interesting' friends."

"It's actually kind of funny."

"It's written for women though."

"Yeah, but I'm gay enough to be amused."

Heero picked it up and leafed through the pages, with a concentrated, fascinated look in his eyes.

Spurred on by the book, they spent another hour exchanging horrible dating-tales and laughing at the universal misery that was the search for a significant other. Sometimes silence fell between them as their laughter died down, but it never made Duo antsy or stressed to find something new to say; he could trust that the conversation would naturally pick up again. No effort required.

Eventually, the owner of The Coffee Lab had to ask them to leave since he was closing the café. They both paid some affectionate attention to the lazy Labrador on the floor and pulled away when their hands accidentally met on the animal's soft fur.

"You live close?" Duo asked once they were outside in the cool midnight air.

"It's about a ten-minute walk."

"Let me walk you home."

Heero cocked his head. "Shouldn't _I_ be the one walking _you_ home? I'm the one who can kick ass, after all."

"True, but I like living right on the edge."

Without any further objection Heero let Duo accompany him on his walk back to his apartment building: an old brown stone with five apartments spread over three floors. It was a very nice building on a street lined with trees; the leaves rustled in the wind.

"Nice," Duo complimented, looking up at the tall windows. Embarrassed, he said: "I didn't even think to ask what you do for a living. Now I'm curious."

"I work as an IT Consultant."

Duo scrunched up his face and impishly admitted: "That sounds boring."

Heero smiled. "It is. I'm not bothered by it though. What I do for a living doesn't define me; what I do _with_ that life does."

Duo nodded, liking the sound of that, as someone who was never able to find an occupation to reflect his identity.

The shorter man stepped up onto the first of six concrete steps leading up to the door, then turned back to face Duo. For the first time that evening, Duo felt uneasy. He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt before stuffing both his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans to stop himself. He was acutely aware of how badly he wanted to kiss Heero – at the end of what basically turned out to be a perfect first date. But he was equally aware of how inappropriate that would be, given their history. He should consider himself lucky that they were able to be friendly to one another and he shouldn't try to push it any further than that.

Heero mimicked his stance – also putting his hands into his pockets – and mirrored his nervousness as well.

Duo didn't know what to think, but one question forced itself into the foreground of his thoughts. _Does he want me to kiss him?_ He found it difficult to make eye contact as he tried to gauge the situation and determine whether a kiss was wanted or not. Up on the first step, Heero was standing at perfect 'kissing-height'. Duo wouldn't have to bend down; he could just lean forward a few inches to connect their mouths. It would be easy… but that didn't mean he was invited to do so.

Even though it was late, and Heero could've simply headed into his home, and escape the odd atmosphere that had descended between them, he didn't. He stood there – waiting for a kiss or just being polite?

 _I can't do it. I can't risk it_. Duo took a step back and Heero bowed his head. "Uh, goodnight. Thanks for coffee – and cake," the American said as Heero had insisted on paying the check that evening.

"Goodnight, Duo," Heero said softly. He pulled his hands out of his pockets and headed up the steps, letting one hand glide over the cast iron railing.

Duo continued to stare long after Heero had closed the front door behind him without looking back. He couldn't shake the idea that he just made a mistake, that his fear made him misjudge – or rather, underestimate – the signs. But the moment had passed and as Duo and Heero both knew very well, the past could not be changed.

With a sigh, Duo started on his way back home.

* * *

The next day was a Monday and Duo was back at the laundromat. The washing machine whirred, hummed and rattled as the laundry tumbled round and round inside. He watched the motion with tired eyes; he hadn't been able to sleep much that night, just tossing and turning until the alarm went off. He replayed the evening over and over in his head: the excitement at seeing Heero, the easy conversation, the laughter, the pleasant, thoughtful silences. It had been perfect; it still made him smile. What made that smile falter, though, was the way the evening had ended. It tainted the memory with regret. Duo regretted that he didn't risk a kiss. He wasn't usually the kind of guy to err on the side of caution, simply because he didn't have the foresight to avoid risk, or cared enough about what might be on the line. But Duo cared about Heero; he liked the younger man and he loved spending time with him – that had made him cautious.

More and more, however, it started to dawn on him that he was missing out on something because of his caution.

It was preposterous – possibly egotistical – to think Heero could be romantically interested in him after how he used him that night at Pride… how he had turned him around and fucked him against the side panel of the restroom stall, not even knowing his name, not even looking at him. How he let his friends harass him afterward…

Heero said he was a different person now, and Duo believed him. Duo said he was a different person now, and Heero believed him.

 _Still though…_

The machine beeped, interrupting his thoughts. Duo carried his wet laundry over to the dryer before taking a seat again, resting his elbow on his knee and propping his head up on his chin. He closed his eyes and pictured Heero standing on the first step, his face close to his. The blue of his eyes was calm and magnetic, thick lashes swept the air as he blinked slowly. His lips were parted ever so slightly. His head was tilted to the left.

"Fuck…" He mumbled under his breath, so the grandma across from him, knitting a baby sweater, wouldn't overhear. _He really did want me to kiss him._ All he had to do was lean forward! It could have been so easy! Why wasn't it easy?! Duo never had any trouble deciphering if someone wanted to be kissed by him or not, and even if he would be wrong, it didn't even matter. But Heero mattered.

Did that confirm Duo's fears? Was he just a shallow guy, drawn to Heero because he had gotten hot?

 _Heero said he is a different person now_ _,_ _and I believed him. I said I am a different person now_ _,_ _and Heero believed me_ , he reiterated and repeated it like a mantra.

They didn't _click_ three years ago because Duo was a self-absorbed asshole who didn't pay attention to people, and Heero was a timid wallflower who couldn't handle him. But they were both different people now and the people they became _did click_.

The entire day, Duo waited impatiently for night to fall. He ironed and folded his laundry with sharp, rushed movements, as if doing the chore in half the time would actually make time go by any faster. The hands of the clock crawled – slower than ever – testing his resolve, giving him time to go through the process of self-doubt over and over; still, he came to the same conclusion every time: he should have kissed Heero. Even though it might be too late, he was going to amend that mistake.

At a quarter past ten, Duo stormed through the front door of the gym, not able to wait any longer. WuFei was standing by the bank of treadmills, talking to Dorothy, when he should have been in the 'dojo' training with Heero since it was Monday night, and Heero worked out with him from eight until ten thirty.

Both trainers noticed him and stared quizzically as he approached them with a determined look on his face.

"Did Heero already leave?" Duo asked his friend, a little out of breath from speedwalking the distance to the gym. His nostrils flared.

"No. He's in the back practicing freestyle with the punching bag. _Why?_ "

Duo didn't answer him, instead walked past him, calling over his shoulder: "If he kills me, bury me in my assless chaps!"

"What? What are you gonna do?"

Duo rounded the corner into the hallway and, in four big strides, he reached the doorway of the private training space.

One of the punching bags had been pulled to the center of the room, hanging above the sparring mat. The metal chain rattled and dull blows against the black vinyl echoed in the empty space. Heero's breaths were sharp but controlled. Muffled music came from his blue headphones. He was so focused that he didn't notice Duo's reflection as the man stalked towards him.

Heero gasped when Duo grabbed his upper arm insistently and spun him around. He looked up at the long-haired man with widened eyes. "Duo?"

Duo didn't say anything, instead he walked Heero back until he had him pressed up against the wall. He pulled the headphones down around his neck and cupped his face in both hands, manipulating the angle of his head, before leaning down and connecting their mouths. Heero brought his wrapped hands up and grabbed hold of Duo's wrists, but he didn't free himself. He returned the savage kiss passionately. They made out to the raspy singing of Michael Jackson and angry yet sultry guitar riffs as "Dirty Diana" played at full volume. Duo's fingers delved into Heero's damp hair; he smelled the sweat that had soaked through the front of the man's shirt and tasted the beads of sweat on his upper, lip but it only added to the heady rush. Heero met his tongue enthusiastically, sparring with it, unwilling to surrender and let himself be dominated. It thrilled Duo.

The song ended and in the silence before the next track started, Duo pulled back; all he heard was the sound of their harsh breathing filling the room. The shocked expression returned to Heero's features.

"I should have kissed you goodnight yesterday."

Heero swallowed. "… Yeah."

"Would you like to go on a date with me?"

"…" He cleared his throat. "Yeah."

"Okay." He paused. "Tomorrow good for you?"

* * *

Heero rang his doorbell at precisely eight o'clock, right on time. Duo jumped and felt a surge of nerves, but quickly composed himself, dusted his hands on his apron and went to get the door. He shot a look at his reflection in the mirror by the entry, to ensure he hadn't wiped something onto his face – he had been preparing their meal all afternoon, even starting over once or twice. It would have been easier to take him out for dinner and a movie, but Duo preferred the personal approach.

He took a deep breath and pulled the door open.

"Hi," greeted Heero, raising his hand in a halfhearted wave. "Your neighbor let me up, I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all." Duo stepped aside, welcoming the Japanese man into his apartment. He'd been working all morning to clean the previous mess that was his usual living space; it hadn't looked that nice since he first moved in.

Heero took in the colorful décor, an eclectic mix of gifted furniture and pieces gathered over the years that somehow – according to Duo's aesthetic – fit together. A mix of Marrakech and East Asian, modern and rustic, and dark colors paired with brights, like the navy blue couch with the neon pillows.

As Heero appraised his interior, Duo snuck a peak at him. He wore grey jeans and a white shirt with the long sleeves rolled up. He looked edible, but Duo knew that was not what he should be thinking about.

"You're wearing an apron," his guest pointed out.

Duo cocked his hip and sassily shot back: "You got a problem with that, mister?"

"Not at all."

The host returned to the kitchen to check the food in the oven and in the frying pans. He called: "Would you like a glass of wine?"

"Sure, thanks."

"Red or white?"

"White, please."

He uncorked a bottle of his favorite white wine – it was a cheap, supermarket brand, but he personally really liked it; whenever he had friends over, they always complimented it, mistaking it for a more expensive drink. He poured them both a glass and walked back, from the tiny kitchen to the small living room, and handed Heero his glass. "Feel free to sit down."

Heero shook his head, preferring to stand. He took a sip of the wine and made an appreciative sound, causing Duo to smirk. He looked around the room again and concluded: "It's very colorful."

"Thanks! Wait-"

The other chuckled. "Don't worry, it's a compliment."

Duo exaggerated his relief. "I'm from the South, so my favorite color is glitter. WuFei talked me out of that so I decided on _all the color_."

"It suits you."

"Loud and obnoxious?"

"Unapologetic and bursting with personality."

Duo pointed a spatula at him. "I like the way you think, sir."

"What's for dinner?" asked Heero.

"Fishcakes from the oven, roasted brassicas, with puy lentils and haloumi, and herb tabbouleh."

Heero nodded and then admitted sheepishly: "I'm nodding along, but all I got was 'fishcakes'. The rest sounds like a Harry Potter spell."

Duo laughed. "Yeah. This is all Jamie Oliver's doing; I distance myself from all responsibility."

"Do you like cooking?"

"Love it," Duo answered and gave the vegetables a stir. "Baking too. I just follow the recipes; it's like doing a puzzle that way. It's fun."

"Seems kind of an odd hobby for a personal trainer."

"Not at all. It helps me resist the urge to go to Burger King every day. And like I told you: a treat now and then is perfectly fine. Didn't Relena give you any interesting recipes?"

"She did, but I find it hard to juggle all the different ingredients. I felt like too much had to be done at the same time. So mostly I just had a salad with steamed fish, or grilled chicken."

"Or cold turkey," Duo supplied with a wink.

Heero smiled in response. "Yeah, that would be lunch."

"You're gonna love this," the American assured him as he checked on the fishcakes one last time. "It's going to be an explosion of flavors."

"I trust you," Heero retorted and they shared a look before both turning their gaze away with a smile. "Can I help you set the table?" Heero was already reaching for the two plates that Duo had previously placed on the kitchen counter.

"Nonono," Duo blocked him and waved his spatula in warning. "It was my decision not to go to a restaurant, so it's up to me to take care of everything."

"That's a relief, I really didn't feel like doing dishes later," the other deadpanned.

He laughed at the dry remark. "Just have a seat. Finish your wine."

The cook put on oven mitts and carefully got the dish out of the oven. He clumsily turned the dial to adjust the heat and put in the tray of desserts that he fetched from the fridge. He closed the door with a pop of his hip. The timing was a little off on the vegetables; he had to wait a few minutes longer, so he used that time to finish setting the table, stealing glances at Heero who had seated himself on his sofa.

It dawned on Duo that he had never entertained a date in his own home before. He was struck by how intimate it was – having all his pictures, books and CDs on display – while at the same time realizing that he didn't mind Heero seeing any of it. He liked the way the younger, smaller man looked; gingerly sitting on the edge of the big couch, thoughtfully sipping his wine.

"How was your workday?"

"A lot of the same old," his guest answered. "But I guess I like that. Did you work today?"

"Hmhm. Two of my clients had leg-day." Duo rubbed his thigh through his jeans. "I can really feel the burn. I always work out _with_ my clients as much as I can. It makes it easier for me to judge how much further I can push them, and I think they respect me for it too. Except cardio – I fucking hate cardio."

"I go running for eight miles every morning. I like it; it's addictive. It frees up the headspace."

"Ohhh…" Duo mock-glared at him. "You're one of _those_."

A little while later, dinner was served; Duo invited his guest to join him at the table. He poured Heero another glass of wine and they enjoyed a quiet conversation during dinner: talking about their friends, families, and hobbies. It was the kind of conversation that had bored Duo on his other dates, but even though he didn't have any apparent interests in common with Heero, he liked listening to him speak with such enthusiasm.

Heero had a great attention to detail that enriched his story-telling – it was captivating. He talked about his weight loss and fitness journey as well, without malice or making any accusations. Through the process, he had discovered new things about himself as he pushed his body. He liked running, hiking, cycling and rock-climbing; and when he talked about the four weeks he spent backpacking through Australia, Duo was especially intrigued.

Duo had spent a year in Australia as part of an exchange program – studying abroad scared him, but he felt like it was something he needed to do in order to grow. He always regretted not having had the spare time to see more of the country beyond his dorm and the college auditorium. Both men marveled at the fact that were in the Down Under in the same year, at the same time; in fact, Heero had passed through the city where Duo lived – they could have had their fateful run-in on the other side of the world.

Duo talked about dropping out of school eventually and trying many other majors at local community colleges, but his problem was that he liked everything yet never really truly loved one thing to justify devoting his life to it. He shared stories about his many jobs through the years and appreciated Heero's clear, understanding eyes. It was easy opening up to the other man. Duo felt safe, like he didn't need to worry about being accepted. Heero had already seen him at his worst and forgave him, so that time he lied on his résumé to get that job as a masseuse wasn't anything he had to try to hide as a dirty little secret.

Long after they finished their plates, Duo got up and cleared the table to get ready to serve dessert. He proudly walked two small plates back to the table. "Mini cheesecakes with fresh red fruit, black cherries and chocolate sauce," he announced. "Bon appetit."

Heero was clearly impressed and he joked: "Wow, you are like… a _professional_ gay."

"What? You mean to tell me you _didn't_ take the classes at the learning annex?"

"No, I'm maintaining my amateur status so I can compete in the gay Olympics."

"Mmm, didn't you hear? They abandoned that rule in the nineties," Duo played along.

"Gosh darn it. All that not-hard work for nothing."

The dessert was another success, much like the main course. A second bottle of wine was opened. They continued their conversation after licking the plate clean. Duo liked how they had both softened their voices and leaned forward over the table, literally being drawn to one another. The sight of Heero's lips was becoming distracting, especially because Duo knew now how soft they were and what an exciting kisser Heero was.

Heero took the liberty of reaching for the bottle of wine to pour himself another glass, but he stopped himself and thought aloud: "Maybe I shouldn't. Maybe I should head home early." Duo was taken aback by that; he was certain his guest was having a good time; he, too, was enticed by their closeness. But Heero put his mind at ease when he explained: "The sooner I go, the sooner I get my goodnight kiss. I _am_ getting a kiss, right?"

Duo smirked. "Don't worry about it."

With no real intentions of leaving early, Heero poured himself that glass of wine.

Eventually Duo forced himself to get up and do some of the dishes before everything would get crusty and difficult to clean. Heero offered to help, but Duo ordered him to sit back down and let him be a good "hostess". He nodded at the wall-mounted five-disc CD player above the television set. "You're free to put on some music you like. CDs aren't all in their original cases though, so good luck with that." He flashed a grin.

Heero got up and walked across the plush living room carpet to the entertainment center; he leaned forward to assess the five CDs already in the elongated, rectangular player – the colorful art of the discs visible through the clear acrylic pane that protected them. Heero gasped at something, but Duo didn't know what.

He flicked the water tap all the way to the left and soon, hot water came pouring from the faucet, filling up the sink. Suds and steam rose up from the water. He dropped the cutlery down to the bottom for a soak and started scrubbing the glass oven dish.

Suddenly, melodramatic piano keys that he knew by heart filled his apartment and then a clear voice sang:

" _At first I was afraid, I was petrified. Kept thinking I could never live without you by side…_ "

He pivoted on his heels and gaped at Heero, who stood by the CD player, grinning.

" _But then I spent so many nights thinking how you did me wrong and I grew strong and I learned how to get along. And so your back…_ "

The other instruments started in and the melody changed.

"I'm not ashamed to admit I love this song!" Duo called as Heero turned up the volume.

"I love it too!" He moved his shoulders to the music.

Gloria Gaynor continued to sing the empowering lyrics that had become an anthem at every Pride event. Duo realized that the lyrics were an eerie fit for their shared history with only a few exceptions, but Heero didn't seem bothered by the potentially poignant note – when the chorus started in he made Duo laugh as he enthusiastically mouthed along.

" _Oh no, not I_ _–_ _I will survive! Oh as long as I know how to love I know I'll stay alive_ _!_ _"_

Duo pulled off his dishwashing gloves; he closed the distance between them and encouraged Heero to dance along with him.

Heero gave him a mischievous look and began to sing along to the lyrics, his voice barely heard over the loud music. "It took all the strength I had not to fall apart. Kept trying hard to mend the pieces of my broken heart! And I spent so many nights feeling sorry for myself. I used to cry but now I hold my head up high! And you see me, somebody knew. I'm not that chained up little girl who's still in love with you…" He brought his hand up, pretending he held a microphone and swayed his hips to the bubbly beat.

Midway through the third chorus their hips connected and Duo felt a spark when Heero slipped a hand behind his neck. Brilliant blue eyes stared into his. It was clear neither of them wanted to wait until the end of the evening to share another kiss. The laughter died for both of them when their faces inched closer together until Duo rushed to close the remaining distance and claimed Heero's mouth. He enclosed his arms around Heero's more lithe frame and pressed their bodies together. Their tongues met, drawing pleasant moans from both of them. His big hands kneaded the muscles of Heero's back through his shirt before he hiked the hem up to touch the skin of his lower back. Duo couldn't resist worming the very tips of his fingers into the waistband of the tight, grey jeans.

Compelled by a deep-seated hunger Duo blindly maneuvered them around the coffee table and dropped backwards onto the couch, pulling Heero down on top of him. They remained lip-locked, their hands started to wander to explore the other's body; their pelvises rutted together in a way Duo hadn't done since before he lost his virginity: his senior year of high school when desperate, frantic dry-humping was all he ever did with his boyfriends. It was exciting and wholly satisfying because he didn't know any better yet.

Duo dragged his fingers up Heero's sides, pushing the shirt ever higher up his torso. He felt muscles tensing and relaxing, and ribs expanding with every sharp intake of air. The pleasure intensified, like roots growing into his abdomen, roots that pulsed and flashed white hot in rhythm with his heartbeat. He relocated his hands to Heero's behind, grasping at the round ass cheeks and taking control of the rolling motion of Heero's hips. Heero let out a gravelly moan and the roots in Duo's stomach tightened, they contracted and the ends dug further into his body.

A raspy chuckle interrupted their kiss; the song ended and the only sounds were their panting breaths. "Shit… I could come in my fucking pants right now," Duo remarked. He let his head fall back on the soft cushion of the couch.

Heero rained kisses on his exposed neck and worked a hand in between their bodies to tug at Duo's belt. "Then let's get you out of them."

"No, wait." Duo clamped his fingers around the wrist of that searching hand. "Let's not go any further right now."

"You don't want it?"

"Oh, I want it. Trust me, I want _all_ of it. But we shouldn't move too fast."

"I don't mind, Duo," Heero said, raising himself off the bigger man's chest; he peered down at him with calm eyes. "It's not like that other time."

"I know, but I have a history of moving too fast. I want to do this right; I want us to take our time."

Heero climbed off him and sat back at the far end of the couch. He adjusted his shirt and ran a hand through his hair.

Duo propped himself up on his elbows. "You okay with that?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to rush you."

"You didn't. We both got caught up in-… in this thing." Duo chuckled sheepishly. "I don't even know what it is."

"It's attraction," Heero said simply.

"Well, I've never felt it quite like _this_ before…"

The other smiled. "Neither have I."

"I think if we wait a little longer, it will be even more intense. It will be worth it."

Heero released a sigh and pulled at the front of his jeans, trying to stretch the fabric to make it a little less restricting around his obvious erection. Duo was thankful his own pair of jeans were a little more forgiving. They shared a breathless laugh.

"What now?" Heero asked after a few seconds of silence.

"Now? I'm going to send you off with a goodnight kiss, then I'm gonna get rid of this hard-on by doing the dishes while thinking about Donald Trump jerking off to a giant painting of himself."

"Jesus." Heero made an amusingly unpleasant face. "Keep that one to yourself next time."

They got up from the couch and just like Duo said, he gave Heero a kiss goodnight at the front door – a much tamer kiss than the one from before or the kiss from yesterday. It was merely a soft merging of the lips, but electrifying regardless.

"Do you have any plans for Friday?" When Heero shook his head, Duo followed up with: "I'll come up with something and give you a call, okay?"

"Yeah." Heero leaned in for another chaste kiss, and laughed against Duo's lips when the taller man whispered the word 'Greedy'. He left shortly afterward, but instead of doing the dishes, Duo headed into his bedroom and planted himself face-first on his bed, moaning into the pillow.

* * *

 **Still not the end…**


	4. Part Four

**Author's Note:**

 **The final installment! Thanks for reading and a special shout-out to the reviewers! Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with me, it is so important to help keep me going, you have no idea! I'm sorry I haven't been responding to the reviews at the start of each chapter, I've literally just been getting these chapters out as fast as I could (since it was, originally, meant to be read as a oneshot). I didn't give myself the time to write out responses and just posted as soon as I got the chapters back from my beta and I had time to get them online.**

 **Another public announcement: chapter fifteen for "Dirty Job" will be uploaded in a few days. It's coming guys! Sorry for the long wait. Baby had to get her groove back after dealing with some medical issues.**

* * *

 **WARNING: Language and sexual content (the good stuff)**

* * *

 **Beta: Shima Yi**

* * *

 **Pride – Part Four**

"So… You're dating 'Fiver' now?" Dorothy surmised as she had just pestered Duo into telling her his plans for Friday.

"Please don't call him that."

"It's just a joke, Duo. Obviously he's not a five anymore."

"But it's not funny, so stop it."

She raised her hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. I respect your wishes. I'll be on my best behavior."

Duo snorted at her false promise. He wiped down the equipment after his four o'clock had just left and tossed the towels they had used into the laundry.

"You really like him," she deduced from his protectiveness. "That's cool."

He smiled. "Yeah, it is cool. Don't butt your nose in it." He pointed at her in warning.

"When have I ever?" Dorothy couldn't even keep her face straight. "But if it's not too much to ask, maybe next time you decide to barge in here and kiss the shit out of your boyfriend, make sure Relena is around to see it."

 _Boyfriend?_ Duo paused and marveled at the term. Something glowed warm and bright in his chest – he liked it. He would like Heero to become his boyfriend, but he knew they weren't there yet. "Don't tell me she's still not over it."

"Then I won't."

"But she's not?"

Dorothy shrugged. "I think she has a hard time believing he's gay, because he's not _your_ kind of gay."

"Hey!"

"Come on, Duo!" She reacted defensively, sporting a smirk. "You're a fucking _queen_ and you know it! She's from a small town and you've sort of defined what 'gay' is to her."

He blinked at her. "Haven't you told her you are gay too?"

Dorothy put her hands on her hips and corrected him routinely: "I'm not gay, I'm bi."

He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. "Honey," he challenged her.

"I'm bi," she asserted.

He scoffed. "When have you last even _seen_ a dick?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I'm looking at one right now."

Duo rolled his head back and laughed. "I stepped right into that one. Fine, so you're _bi_. You haven't told her?"

Dorothy pursed her lips. "I liked it a lot better when I was meddling in _your_ business."

"Life's a two-way street, Dorothy. If you veer into the oncoming lane, both cars are gonna crash."

She stuck out her tongue at him – very mature – and then turned and walked away to get ready for her last appointment of the day.

With a more serious tone, Duo called after her: "Seriously, Dorothy. You should tell her."

"Yeah yeah…" She waved her hand dismissively.

Duo didn't push the matter further. Coming out – no matter how late in life or how often you've already been through it – was hugely personal and everyone had their own timeframe for it. In that regard, Duo considered himself lucky that his sexual orientation had always been obvious to everyone because he fit certain stereotypes. It had caused him trouble too, especially growing up in the South, twenty years ago. Back home, his dad was one of the few people who never took issue with it and Duo always admired the old roughneck for that. The man allowed his son to grow up feeling good about himself and built his confidence back up whenever an ignorant boy at school had taken it down. He'd come to school with him the next day, grab those boys by their shirts, and dunked their bottoms in the stream.

He was a man that proved that even if you fit a stereotype – for better or for worse – you could never be defined by how other people saw you; you could still catch people by surprise, so no one had the right to judge you.

Duo's dad was a motorman on an oil rig, responsible for the repair and upkeep of the heavy-duty equipment. When his mom passed away, his dad's days on the oil rig out at sea were over; he became a welder at a steel factory. He drove a pick-up truck and listened to country music. He was a heavy smoker and liked his beer cheap and American-made. Year round the only thing clean and pristine about their house was the flag that flew over the porch. He dutifully went to church every Sunday, but watching football was his true religion – he still kept the trophies from his own glory days gone by.

All of these habits that would suggest otherwise, but the man loved his gay son more than anything else, in spite of what smallminded people had to say about that. He learned how to braid hair when his son insisted on growing it long from a young age; and he didn't buy his son G.I. Joe's or take him dirt-biking, like the other dads did, because he knew and accepted that Duo didn't like that. Instead, he bought him an easy bake oven, and when the boy was old enough to be around the real oven, they spent afternoons baking and decorating cupcakes.

That was how Duo learned that even though he liked pink and glitter, and liked playing with Hilde from next door and her pretty Barbies, he wasn't any less of a boy and he wouldn't grow up to be any less of a man. He wasn't weak just because he was gay and didn't like getting his hands dirty, and he didn't need to accept any shit from anybody who tried to tell him otherwise.

That was probably why Duo was never going to _be_ a personal trainer, _be_ a waiter, or _be_ a florist. He wasn't ever going to fit into a box – he was always going to have hands and feet dangling out of it, grasping at other things, curious about more.

"Hey, Dorothy!" She looked over and Duo walked up to her. Her client had already arrived, so he said mysteriously to protect her privacy: "Tell her. She could surprise you." He wasn't sure if that was possible, but he knew better than to think it impossible. People had the power to surprise you – and if they don't now, then they might later because another thing people have is the power to change.

He met Heero three years ago, when they were both different people who weren't compatible. They had been given a second chance and the people they had grown into _did_ connect. So maybe, after all life's lessons learned, there was one thing Duo could _be:_ a hopeless romantic.

Dorothy frowned at him but didn't respond with her usual quips. "I'll think about it."

Duo smiled and then went to welcome his client who just walked through the door.

* * *

Their second date would be a highly unimaginative dinner-and-a-movie. Duo was almost too embarrassed to suggest it, but it was a tried and tested formula that worked for many others in the past – there had to be a reason it became popular enough to achieve cliché-status, right? He made dinner reservations at a Moroccan restaurant, and the movie would be something uncomplicated that had been out for a while so the theater would be mostly empty, in case they'd just end up talking, or otherwise preoccupied.

Not wanting to look too dressed up – since he would end the night in a likely stained seat with a big carton of popcorn on his lap, spilling the buttered treat all over himself, no doubt – he wore comfortable jeans, the kind he'd wear running errands, and a navy sweater, only opting for his fancier, cognac-colored leather shoes. Standing in front of the mirror, he rolled up one sleeve as a test, then the other. He tried on three different watches but ended up not wearing one. He put a lot of thought into looking like he had put zero thought in his outfit. For whatever reason, that mattered.

Leaving a little later than he should have – calculating on being fashionably late by ten minutes – he walked the short distance to Heero's apartment building. His pace was so quick he ended up only being three minutes late. He pressed the doorbell and leaned towards the intercom, ready to announce himself, but a buzzer simply sounded and the door unlocked. He smiled; he was hoping he would get to come up first to see Heero's apartment. He jogged up the steps and knocked on the door. As he waited he rolled his sleeves down again, but instantly regretted it as he noticed the wrinkles in the fabric. Before he could hastily roll them back up again, the door opened.

Heero's smile was a beacon of light. His teeth were bright, his lips were pink and glossy – he had just put on some kind of chapstick. Duo's gaze was drawn to it, mesmerized, but eventually he couldn't help but glance down. He was wearing a comfortable, black cowl neck sweater, the neckline drooping down low enough to expose more skin than Duo thought he would be able to stand for one evening; he was going to have a hard time resisting the urge to kiss and lick at the throat and the hollow of the collarbone. The light wash jeans he wore were tight and ripped over his thighs and knees. He wasn't wearing any shoes yet and he wiggled the toes of his bare feet.

After a mortifying delay, Duo drawled: "… Hi."

The smile only brightened, but by way of habit he covered it with his hand. Thankfully, he could not hide the sparkle in his blue eyes. "Hi. Come on in." Heero stepped aside to let him in and continued: "I was hoping you'd be a little late, I'm not ready yet."

Duo smirked. He was going to be, but the anticipation had quickened his step. "That's okay. I don't mind waiting for a bit." He stopped a few feet into the living space and stared. The apartment was in fact a beautiful, industrial style loft. The warm hardwood floor was polished to glossy perfection, two walls were exposed brick, the other walls were white and black; the frames of the three tall windows facing the front were black as well. The kitchen, directly to his right, was all stainless steel, reflecting the light of bare lightbulbs hanging down in a cluster over the cooking island, similar to the bundle of lights coming down from the high ceiling to the glass coffee table, crowded by an enormous, grey, L-shaped couch. Partially hidden by a partition of frosted glass was the big bed. Groups of potted plants, strategically placed, added color and life to the space, as well as the interesting collage of different shaped, sized and framed mirrors on the big, black wall.

"I feel intimidated," The American blurted, as he stood there, staring.

Heero chuckled. "Why?"

"Because you've seen my place and my place… is not… your place." He scrunched up his face. "My place looks like the bedroom of a teenaged girl compared to your place."

"I like your apartment!"

Duo did too, but he felt self-conscious about that; he felt immature.

"If it helps; the place came fully furbished. Not even the plants are mine."

Duo snorted and smiled – that _did_ make him feel a little better.

Heero walked past him and sidestepped the partition separating his 'bedroom' from the rest of the space. He called: "One minute. I just have to put on shoes and pretend I'm late because I couldn't find any clean socks, not because I couldn't decide on what shoes to wear!" Duo let out a laugh at the admission, his spirits being lifted further.

Curiosity drew him closer and he casually came to stand by the partition, tucking his hands into his pockets, and observed the bedroom area before simply watching Heero. The younger man retrieved a pair of clean socks from a drawer, and there was only slight hesitation apparent in his movements before he reached for a pair of black boots with heavy, silver buckles. He walked around the bed and sat down on the edge.

"Good choice," Duo commented his a smirk.

Heero snapped his head up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, those are cool."

"Thanks." He started putting on the first sock. "You should tell me where you got that striped shirt from, from before. I really like it."

"Maybe I'll let you borrow it one day."

Heero pouted. "It will be too big for me."

"I think it would look good," Duo mused. "I think it would look really cute, actually, with those super tight skinny jeans."

The other smiled. A blush appeared on his cheeks.

"Those jeans are really…" Rather than trying to find the right word, he finished his statement with an appreciative groan. As soon as he realized what a sleaze he was being – even though Heero only smiled in response – he apologized. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't-… I don't want you to feel like I'm only thinking about your looks. It's not like that at all."

Heero stepped into his boots and responded: "It's okay, Duo. You don't have to walk on eggshells. Besides…" He grinned mischievously but was disarmed by the red hue on his cheeks, "I like hearing it."

"Hearing what?"

He shrugged. "That you like how I look."

"You're so fucking hot." Duo covered his mouth at hearing the words slip out of him, but then he laughed at himself. He rolled up his sleeves again, feeling antsy. "Finish up, Cinderella, we should get going. Before I get too sidetracked."

Heero smirked knowingly and slowly toed off his boots, rather than zipping them up. They fell to the hardwood floor with a load thud and the buckles rattled.

Duo bit on his bottom lip. A moan resounded deep in his throat. "Don't do that…" He said, but he didn't mean it.

He took off his socks as well before crawling further up the bed and laying down on his back, with his knees bent and parted; a very clear invitation.

The American chuckled breathlessly. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, wanting nothing more than to pounce on top of him, but also still wanting to be a gentleman and take this guy that he was falling head over heels in love with on a proper date. "Our dinner reservation is in fifteen minutes."

"We would still make it."

"No," he shook his head furiously, "we would _not_."

Heero grinned in agreement but remained on the bed.

Duo took a deep breath and subconsciously wrung his left wrist in his right hand, hard enough to be painful, as if trying to pinch himself to wake up from a dream. "I really want to take you on a proper date," he voiced his crumbling resolve. "I don't want to screw this up."

Heero nodded, yet still did not move. "I think we stand a better chance at having a proper date if we get _this_ out of the way first."

"This?"

"This distraction." He brought a delicate hand up and lightly touched his chin before ghosting his index fingers down the length of his throat, to that hollow at the center of his collar bones.

"Oh my God, you're killing me," Duo whined.

Heero let out a genuine, hearty laugh. "Just get over here, so we can at least make it to the movies on time."

A little too eager, Duo finally gave in and he toed off his shoes before approaching the bed. Rather than inserting himself between Heero's thighs the way he was dying to and was probably supposed to, he lay himself down on his side next to the beautiful man, leaving a small distance between them. Heero then rolled over to face him, leaving no space to separate them. Their chests and hips were flush together and Heero placed one thigh over Duo's legs; his small hand slipped around his neck, under the base of the thick braid where the skin radiated heat.

Duo easily draped an arm around Heero's waist and, with a splayed hand on his back, he held him to his body even tighter. Their mouths met and their lips moved together, without any sense of hurry or even purpose. The puffs of air he felt on his face with each of Heero's exhales warmed his skin, but the kiss sent shivers down his spine. Tentatively he touched his tongue to Heero's bottom lip; he felt the wanton mouth curl into a smile and the younger man coyly ignored his desire to deepen the kiss. Duo let out a low, rumbling laugh.

Finally, Heero got enough of teasing himself; he suddenly pressed their mouths together tightly and thrust his tongue into the American's mouth to explore, before beckoning for him to return the favor. Duo shifted his weight and partially rolled on top of the other. His right hand was trapped under Heero's body but he tangled the fingers of his left hand into the wild, chocolate brown hair to take ultimate control of the kiss. He paused only momentarily to kiss along the jawline and drag the tip of his tongue down the length of Heero's throat; he sucked on the sharp edge of the collarbone, exposed by the low cut of the sweater's neckline.

"Are you sure you don't want to wait?" Duo had to ask.

"I'm not the same, shy boy I was," Heero said. "I know what I want." With a growl he flipped them both over on the bed, eliciting a surprised yelp out of Duo who did not expect to be pushed onto his back and straddled by strong thighs. "And I know how to get it." Heero flashed a smirk and sat up straight; with a fluid motion, he pulled the sweater over his head and tossed it aside. He sat back on Duo's groin and let the man look at him. His eyes gleamed with confidence and pride, and his cockiness was uncharacteristically attractive.

Duo gratefully stared at the golden chest, the taut abdomen and the tiny waist. The dusty pink nipples were pert. Dark curls trailed down from his belly bottom to the hem of his jeans. The outline of his erection was obvious. Duo's big hands sought purchase on his narrow hips as Heero grinded down against him. Duo moaned, uninhibited. Still, he hesitated and it was like the other man could read his mind.

"Don't worry about it." With a sly smirk on his lips, Heero added: "It's okay to be superficial for a little bit." He placed his hands low on Duo's stomach, slipping them under his sweater. Slowly, he moved his warm hands up his torso, pushing the hem of the sweater up as he went, until the material was bunched up under Duo's chin. He leaned forward and dipped his head down, curling his spine. His hair tickled Duo's chest before his plump lips landed a kiss on his sternum.

Duo's gasp blended into a breathless chuckle. Heero had an unparalleled effect on him and he suspected it had little to do with the superficial. Heero was beautiful; Duo had been with many beautiful men – almost exclusively, in fact – but none of them ever made him feel like that – like a simple kiss to his chest could unravel his sanity.

The kisses moved all across his chest as Heero's hands worked up and down his sides with feather light touches, nearly ticklish. Goosebumps spread over his skin, his breath kept hitching in the back of his throat. Wanting a quick fix to drive Heero equally insane, he repositioned one of his hands to the front of his jeans, to the hard length angled up to his left hipbone. He palmed the erection through the denim.

Heero let out a chuckle that Duo felt more than he could hear it. He raised his head up and smirked at the longhaired man. "Forward," he noted, bemused. "I thought you said we weren't going to make it in twenty minutes?"

Duo smiled impishly in return. "You've got me all scatterbrained, I didn't know what else to do."

The Japanese man sat upright again and grabbed both of Duo's wrists to guide his hands up his stomach, brushing the still but itching fingers over his skin, and then placed the palms on his chest, the thumbs close to the tempting nipples. "How about you start here?"

Duo nodded eagerly and sat up himself. He placed a kiss under Heero's chin, then latched his mouth onto the side of his craned neck. Heero's hands released his wrists and sensually trailed up his arms until he reached the shoulders and then clawed at the sweater; understanding what was wanted of him, Duo removed his hands from Heero's body only long enough to pull off his sweater, laughing at himself as the hem of the neckline got caught on his nose in his haste. The laughter soon died down, with the sweater all but forgotten. He continued to adore the long neck and shapely collarbone with kisses as he pinched both nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, earning himself a pleasurable gasp. Heero's fingers dug into his hair and massaged his scalp, making him feel tingly all over. Whenever Heero could – whenever Duo didn't have him roll his head back so he could suck on his neck like he was about to draw blood – he rained kisses on Duo's face: on his forehead, on his temples, on his eyes. In the meantime they ground their hips together.

Again starting to act on the urgency he experienced, Duo brought his arms around Heero's slim body and continued worshipping the sensitive nipples with his mouth instead, receiving even more favorable moans from his partner. He dug the tips of his fingers into the waistband of Heero's tight jeans, waiting to gauge his reaction. He smirked when he felt Heero reach between them to undo the buttons of jeans, loosening them enough for Duo to be able to fit his hands into them. He noted he wasn't wearing any underwear and wondered to what extent it was his plan all along to have sex before their second date.

"While you're down there," the American said, "mind giving me some more space in the front of my jeans?" The hands worked deftly to undo the button and lower the zipper, but rather than stopping there, Heero slipped one hand inside and palmed him through his underwear. "Oh, shit!" Duo exclaimed against his chest. He let himself fall backwards onto the mattress, pulling the other down with him. With their faces level again, they locked their mouths together for another kiss.

Duo withstood for as long as he could: Heero's hot mouth on his, the skilled hand in his pants, the delicious, small sounds he made. It wasn't very long. He snarled like the animal he felt he was and rolled them over, pinning Heero down. He ravaged his mouth for a little longer, leaving the lips reddened and swollen and wet with both their saliva, before he sat up between Heero's legs and tugged the jeans down his slim legs, struggling to get the tight ends of the legs over the heel of his feet, but he managed.

He took a moment and stared at the exquisite body that lay before him; every inch of skin was golden perfection, glowing with a sheen of sweat, his muscles were toned and defined without bulking up the slender body. Heero had raised his arms above his head, elongating his frame – they lay elegantly draped on the black sheets. His wild hair was fanned around his head, eyebrows were pinched together, his jaw was clenching and he was biting his bottom lip in anticipation, but his blue eyes were calm and peaceful, like the eye of a storm, a stillness and a refuge amidst a raging frenzy.

 _You are the most beautiful sight I've ever seen_ , Duo thought to himself and this thought wrecked him with guilt. He deflated as he felt conflicted about continuing what they were doing. He worried about Heero mistakenly thinking that he was only interested because he looked different now from how he did three years ago at Pride.

Heero caught on that something was off. He sat up and cupped his hands around Duo's jaw and leaned his forehead against his. "What's wrong?"

"I don't want this to be just about sex."

"It won't be," he tried to reassure him.

"I want you to know you are more than just beautiful to me," Duo whispered.

"What am I?"

The answer came to him easily. "Special." He had never met anyone like Heero, so magnetic and captivating, someone whose presence was so wholly fulfilling yet, paradoxically, never enough. He was surprised when Heero suddenly kissed him and he could feel the smile on the soft lips pressed against his. He returned the kiss only momentarily before he continued: "I need you to know that regardless of how incredibly beautiful you are, the way you look is still the least interesting thing about you." When Heero tried to kiss him again Duo leaned his head back, so that time he could see the smile rather than feel it – he looked radiant. Duo's own mouth twisted into a grimace. "I hate that this won't be our first time together."

"… But it is," Heero offered, following a thoughtful pause. "We're both different people now."

Those words rang true and consoled him.

"Do you need help getting out of those jeans?"

Duo laughed heartily at the unsubtle change of topic. "No. No, I got it." He stood at the edge of the bed and purposefully stripped down. The way Heero watched him heated him up all over again. Giddy with excitement, he climbed back onto the bed and Heero welcomed him, wrapping his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist. Their mouth reunited and continued like their kiss had never been interrupted. The American grabbed fistfuls of the chocolate brown hair in need as he rutted against the body underneath him. They moaned against each other's lips as their arousals rubbed together, sandwiched between their abdomens.

He pushed away all thoughts of that awful night at Pride. The hazy, light feeling in his head. The aftertaste of beer mixed with cheap shots. The smell of the urinals. The words carved into the door of the restroom stall. The brief, loveless fuck against the filthy, tiled wall. That wasn't him. That wasn't them.

Heero pushed him away and crawled out from underneath him, only to move to the other side of the bed to fetch a condom and a bottle of lube from the nightstand drawer on the right side of the bed. With a curl of his finger he invited Duo to meet him in the middle; the taller man eagerly covered his body with his own again. While they shared another one of their addictive kisses, Heero managed to pop the bottle of lube and coat his fingers royally. He reached his hand between them and it disappeared far between his legs. Duo smiled against Heero's mouth as the other started to return the kiss sloppily, distracted by his own preparations and the pleasure it caused him. He didn't take too long. He wiped the two digits on his own abdomen and then reached for the silver packet on the pillow next to him.

Duo helpfully took it from him, tore it open and put the condom on himself, feeling Heero's piercing gaze on him.

One of Heero's legs was around his waist but the younger man hooked the other over Duo's shoulder and the American reactively grabbed at the golden thigh as he positioned himself.

"You're sure, right?"

"Duo, I swear to God, if you stop now, I-"

He didn't even let him finish and Heero's impatient tone blended into a drawn-out moan as Duo leaned forward and pushed inside in a smooth, controlled motion that he managed in spite of his own excitement. He dropped his head down with a groan and buried his face in the crook of Heero's neck. The intensity of the physical union caught him off guard; he wasn't used to sex feeling that way, to sex meaning anything. He snapped his hips repeatedly, unable to exert much control as a slave to his own pleasure.

Heero's arms encircled him and short nails clawed at his back. "Ah, fuck, I forgot," he crooned between sharp gasps.

"What?"

"How fucking big you are."

In any other scenario it would have been a boost to his ego but Duo didn't appreciate any reference to that previous encounter they had shared, so before Heero could say anything else, he locked their lips together in a demanding kiss. Only after a while did he think to ask: "I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"No…" he whined, his eyes clenched shut. "Feels good."

He kissed him once more before sitting upright, raising Heero's hips off the bed and maneuvering both of Heero's legs over his shoulders. His fingers dug into the skin, just below his knees, holding onto the legs as he added more power to each forward thrust of his pelvis. He enjoyed watching Heero senselessly bury his hands in his own hair and throw his head back. His mouth was open and moans tumbled from his lips incessantly. His erection lay back against his abdomen and Duo roughly dragged his palm up and down the length of it a couple of time.

He knew neither of them would last very long if they kept it up, so he halted their desperate, rocking motion and repositioned them again. Being careful to never let himself slip out of the tight, hot passage, he brought both of Heero's legs over to one side and then lay down on the bed, spooning him. Heero twisted his neck to look back at him and for a long time they merely kissed while Duo let the fingers of one hand ghost over the plains of Heero's stomach, that time purposefully avoiding the needy arousal.

When he started moving again it was slow and loving. It was unlike anything he had ever done before, but it felt right. Their kiss became increasingly more distracted and interrupted by deep moans and shallow breaths. The way Heero arched his back was glorious, pressing his bottom against Duo's pelvis and his shoulders against his chest. His ribs became visible under the muscle and smooth skin; Duo let his finger trail up and down the rise and fall of each of them on his way to pinch the nipple.

"Touch me," Heero pleaded.

Duo let out a breathy chuckle. "I am touching you."

"Please…"

The tone of his voice melted down Duo's mischievous attitude. He kissed him roughly, demandingly, but heeded his request and wrapped his fist around his erection. He smirked against the luscious lips feeling his lover tighten around him in response to the bold touch. At first he hadn't been sure if he would be able to achieve orgasm with the slight, slow-paced thrusts that he could manage lying behind him, but feeling the tight grip reassured him that he could come when Heero was ready. Impatient for both their release he pumped his fist up and down, twisting and tightening his hand over the sensitive head.

"Fuck, I'm close," the other ground out in warning. He turned his head away and buried his nose in the pillow and Duo resorted to kissing his neck and sucking on his earlobe. "I'm so close, I-!" Heero gritted his teeth, staying off his orgasm. Every muscle in his body tensed up and he started to tremble.

Duo clenched his eyes shut, his own climax suddenly dangerously close as well. "Yeah, baby, come on… Take us there."

"Ah! Are you-?"

"Yeah! Take me with you!"

Heero cried out as his orgasm hit him. His body went rigid after he sucked in a final breath. The first bursts of semen shot out onto the bedsheets while the last of it leaked onto Duo's hand. The intimate muscles that tightened around Duo's manhood took him over the edge as predicted; he reactively sunk his teeth into Heero's shoulder and moaned uncontrollably around the mouthful of flesh. He kept pumping his fist and rocking his hips for as long as he could until his body lost all strength and he could do little more than lay pressed up against Heero's sweaty back, his thick arm loosely draped around the smaller body of his lover. Heero relaxed too, with a shuddering exhale and his hand found Duo's, laying limp on the bed, and he entwined their fingers.

All Duo could smell was Heero: his sweat, his sex, his hair product, the faint traces of a vanilla body wash, the unique scent in his pillows, and that smell of new clothes and leather shoes from the open closet behind them that was so distinctly _him_ , somehow. Duo gladly bathed in it and he hoped the perfume would linger on his skin and in his hair.

Regrettably he had no choice but to detach himself from the other, if only briefly, so he could pull out before his member would go completely soft. He took off the condom and struggled to tie the end; his fingers were shaking. Once the task was completed, he looked around himself awkwardly. In past situations he would have simply tossed the used condom on the floor without a care; but in past situations, he would either be in an already dirty restroom stall, a dark alley or a grungy motel room – not in the interior-design-digest-bedroom of someone he wished to have more than a one-night stand with.

He leaned over his lover and his heart melted at the peaceful look on his pretty features. His eyes were closed and if he wasn't already fast asleep, he was certainly close to it. Duo hated having to do this, but he cleared him throat and impishly started: "Uhm… what do I…?"

Blue eyes slowly opened and Heero readjusted his upper body slightly to look up at Duo leaning over him, with the condom pinched between his thumb and index finger. The Japanese man let out a short laugh at what must have been a pathetically uncomfortable and confused expression on Duo's behalf. He sat up and took the condom from him and got up from the bed, avoiding the stains he made on the sheets. Duo watched him walk out of the secluded bedroom area and heard him open a door somewhere – the bathroom, presumably. The golden figure returned after a few minutes, still shamelessly nude and tossed a warm, damp washcloth Duo's way with a smirk.

Duo sat up on the other side of the bed, throwing his feet over the edge, and used the washcloth to freshen up. He laughed when he felt Heero tug hard on the sheets he was sitting on top off and he stood long enough for him to rip the top sheets off the bed; he then bundled them up and disposed of them in the corner. The American was seated on the edge of the bed again when he felt the mattress move as Heero crawled over to him. He grinned when he first felt two warm hands on his shoulders that gave him a squeeze before running down his chest, gliding over his pecs and abs. Heero seated himself behind him, with his knees on either side of him. Then Duo felt the hot mouth on the side of his neck and almost simultaneously there was the tickle of wild bangs against his jaw.

"So, about that threat you were going to make?" Duo teased.

"Hm?" Heero relocated his mouth to kiss ear.

"You said: 'I swear to God, if you stop now-'. What would you have done?"

"Nnnn. We both know you weren't going to stop."

Duo chuckled. _True_. He didn't continue his teasing; instead, he enjoyed Heero's loving ministrations in quiet. He smiled when Heero slipped the elastic band off the end of his braid and undid the rope of hair that must have become messy during their tangle in the bed. Long fingers raked through the mass of hair, grazing Duo's back, giving him goosebumps. After a while of stroking and playing with the soft strands, deft fingers neatly braided the hair anew and fixed it in place with the elastic.

Suddenly the younger man pressed himself against Duo's back and leaned his head on his shoulder. "I've never had sex like that before," he admitted in a whisper.

"Like what?"

"So close." Apparently dissatisfied with his own answer he elaborated: "I've never felt so close to someone."

Duo smiled. "Me neither."

"I liked it."

"Good. Because we'll be doing it more often," he cheekily asserted. He laughed when Heero pinched his sides.

"Oh, is that so?"

"Yeah."

"Promise?"

"Hmhm." He placed his hand on the back of Heero's head and pulled him close for a kiss. "Not right now, though." He chuckled at the other's exaggerated pout. "Daddy's hungry."

"I'm pretty sure we missed our dinner reservation."

"I know a place. Get dressed."

" _Bossy_ ," Heero joked, but he crawled to the other side of the bed and climbed off to collect his clothes off the floor, helpfully tossing Duo's shirt his way when he came across it.

Duo was ready before Heero was. He waited in the living room, by the open bathroom door, and tried not to grin watching the other fuss over his hair, trying to style it in a way that made it a little less obvious it got messed up in bed. Satisfied that he looked presentable, he emerged from the bathroom and defiantly met Duo's gaze.

"I'm not vain," he said in defense.

"No, you're not," Duo agreed. "You're proud." He let his eyes trail up and down Heero's body to once more appreciate how good he looked in that black sweater and the tight jeans. "As you should be."

Heero smiled in response, that pink tongue showing until he routinely covered his mouth with his hand.

Duo gently grabbed his wrist and lowered his arm. "You should be proud of that too," he said, but the endearing smile faltered.

"Of what?"

"Your smile. It's beautiful."

Heero snorted. "Duo, I'll be the first to agree that my eyes are beautiful; my hands are beautiful; my ass is beautiful." he winked, "My smile is not beautiful."

"Why would you say that?"

"It's just… The tongue-thing… I can't stop doing it."

"And you shouldn't, it's cute."

Heero rolled his eyes. "It's not cute, it's awkward. It's…" He shrugged as he struggled with words. "It's that kid's smile. That kid I used to be."

"It is," Duo conceded, as he remembered seeing it first that night they met at the bar during Pride. "I like it." He said the words reverently. He reached out, steadied his hand on Heero's chin and ran his thumb along the bottom lip.

Heero frowned at him, confused and bemused by the sentiment. A light blush appeared on his cheeks. He shook his head, causing Duo's hand to fall between the two of them. "Whatever." He smiled again and made a mockery of himself by sticking his tongue all the way out.

The American laughed. "Let's go. I'm hungry."

They walked out of the apartment hand in hand and Duo guided him through the streets until, after a short walk, they ended up in front of a cheesy, greasy, cheap Chinese restaurant. Duo held the door open for his date.

"Romantic," Heero remarked sarcastically as he took in the dusty, faded-red lampoons strung across the ceiling, and the gaudy, golden dragon figurines that littered the interior. The simple tones of a Chinese string instrument blended with the indiscriminate chatter of the guests. Both of them laughed as they recognized the song at the same time: Call Me Maybe.

"Duo!" Called the chef through the serving window.

Duo waved in return; h then placed his hand on Heero's lower back and guided him to a table for the two at the back.

"So, you come here often," the Japanese man concluded.

"Not at all," Duo lied, before calling the waiter over by his name. Heero shook his head at him. "Can we have the menu and red wine, please?"

"Not the usual?"

"No, I have a guest," Duo nodded at Heero seated across from him.

The waiter swiftly returned with two menus and a carafe of cheap wine.

"What would be 'the usual'?"

Duo folded out the plastic menu and hid behind it. "You don't want to know." His dry tone elicited a laugh from his partner.

"Do you bring a lot of dates here?"

"You're the first."

"Hn." Heero hid behind his own menu before Duo could peek at him to try and figure out what that meant.

They ordered an obscene amount of food but the waiter was hardly fazed. Once the table was loaded up with a variety of dishes and they had their first few bites to satisfy their immediate hunger, Duo admitted: "I've never really been in a long term relationship." He paused his meal to meet Heero's gaze, ignoring his own shame.

"Okay." He seemed unsure why the other had brought that up.

"I just thought I should warn you… Since you're going to be the first."

Heero looked down at the bowl of noodles in front of him and dug around with his chopsticks. Duo felt his heart clench painfully until he caught a glimpse of a tiny smile tugging at the corner of the other man's mouth. "Oh, yeah?" Heero retorted mischievously, the smile turning more bold and smug.

Duo smiled in return. "Yeah," he asserted.

"I guess I have no say in the matter, then."

"You really don't. This is happening, whether you like it or not."

"I've…-" Heero looked up at him, his eyes genuine, his smile gone. "I've never been in a long term relationship either."

"Good."

Heero blinked at him. He chuckled. "Good?"

"Yeah. We'll get to experience a lot of 'firsts' together. I like that." He offered Heero a confident smile.

"We're going to fuck up a lot of 'firsts', probably."

"I laugh in the face of danger."

They shared a quiet chuckle and continued to eat, trying all the different dishes and feeding each other from bowls that were on the other side of the table. When Heero had sauce on his lips, Duo put his chopsticks down and ran a thumb across the bottom lip, swiping off the sauce and then teasingly sucking on his own thumb. His face went red when Heero's foot suddenly met his under the table and their calves lined up.

The Japanese man smirked at him. "Maybe we aren't going to make it to the movies either after all."

Duo didn't mind the sound of that at all and he slowly nodded in response.

"Duo?" Heero's tone was serious as he spoke his name. "What if I get fat again?"

The question caught him off guard, if only momentarily. When he blinked he saw that kid from Pride sitting across from him. " _Fat"_ seemed like too harsh of a word, but definitely chubby – wearing that hideous, loose-fitting shirt that he hoped to hide his shape in. Duo took a moment to give the question honest thought; he didn't want to hastily say anything only to appease Heero. He knew that wasn't what was wanted from him.

It didn't take him long to realize that it wouldn't matter, because when he thought about Heero, he thought of him dancing and singing along to "I Will Survive"; he thought of him enjoying the "C-word" cake at The Coffee Lab; he thought of "Dr. Chris P. Fisherman": he thought of their first kiss to "Dirty Diana"; he thought of his beautiful, blue eyes and – most of all – he thought of that smile and that little, pink tongue. Even though it was, ultimately, their looks that brought them together, their looks could not break them apart. A sense of peace settled over Duo and he smiled.

Heero raised his eyebrows, waiting for the answer.

"I guess if you gained weight again, we definitely wouldn't make it to the theater in time."

The other pursed his lips, about to misinterpret the meaning of his words.

Duo elaborated: "Sex would just take a lot longer."

"Why?"

"Because there would be more of you to love; worshipping every inch of you would take a while."

Heero smiled brightly, with his tongue pressed up against his white teeth. His hand moved, but he didn't raise it to cover his mouth, he snaked his arms between the plates and bowls that cluttered the table and covered Duo's hand with his, giving a light squeeze.

Duo had never felt happier. A happiness he wanted to hold onto forever. A happiness he wished everyone in the world could have – Gordon Mullins, Sweater-vest Sam, Mr. God-is-always-the-right-answer… even Dorothy, maybe with Relena. Life was not about _being_ a florist, a cruise ship waiter, a fucking masseuse, a personal trainer, a hopeless romantic or someone's boyfriend; it was about _being happy –_ all of that other stuff was just a possible means to an end and he didn't have to settle for any one of them, if it wasn't a means to his happy ending _._ But being with Heero did make him feel that way. Duo physically relaxed as his restlessness was replaced with an unexpected sense of contentment at simply being happy with Heero.

The sparkle in his eyes must have been obvious because Heero deadpanned: "You fucking sap."

"And proud of it."

They both burst out laughing.

* * *

 **THIS is the end :) And the fucking sap is ME! (I own that shit) There aren't enough happy endings in the real world, so I'm compensating.**


End file.
